The second, and main reason my sermon is not getting done at this moment is this: as of last week Hannah has taken up the oboe.
I now firmly and unequivocally believe that I am constitutionally unable to hear the Spirit of God when all evidence would lead you to believe that a cow is dying a slow and painful death in the middle of the living room (just adjacent to where I am writing).
Ultimately, I completely support musical development in our family, but up until this point it has not affected my ability to sermon-write.
I try to go into another room-and find you can hear this special sound through the walls.
I try to go outside on the porch with the dog, but his ears pick up the strains and he starts howling along.
I even take the laptop out to the car and tried to write, but it seems that special whine/howl is now firmly imprinted on the soft tissue of my brain and I cannot think coherently about anything except why we ever thought it was a good idea for Hannah to take the instrumental music elective this year in the first place.
Thus I maintain that this is certainly reason enough for me to send my regrets Sunday morning, don’t you? Surely someone could stand up and say: “Jeremiah wrote a poetic treatise on the anger of God. Please open your Bibles and discuss amongst yourselves.”
Yes, I think that might be the way to go, because I imagine by then I’ll be lying in bed, hopefully under heavy sedation, with earplugs firmly in place and a cold washcloth on my forehead.
I’ll keep you posted.
This is just too good! I know everyone who has lived in this house can relate. When I get a new student, the sounds can be … um … interesting. Some students get the oboe knack right away, but for most it takes some time; oboe is just a difficult instrument to begin. So the sounds can be bizarre. Duck calls. Or goose calls. Our very, very loud. Or at the other extreme … so soft you can barely hear the player.
It’s just the nature of the beast.
I had one student who is now quite good that caused each family member to shut (loudly) their bedroom door the minute the lesson began. Fortunately my younger students don’t seem to notice the door shutting stage of their playing, but I always crack up (silently, inside my head … a student can never see it). I used to have to plug my ear by resting my oboe against it when one student played. Yes, learning to play at a decent volume is difficult for some.
But take heart, dear Blogging Preacher! Beginning oboists turn into intermediate oboists and eventually, if they are dedicated, they turn into advanced oboists. And possibly, should they lean that way, the turn into professional oboists. And make small amounts of money. And have people ask them things like, “What’s an oboe?” or “What’s your real job?”
PS Ever notice that the oboe isn’t mentioned in Psalm 150? Even the CYMBAL gets a mention and a double reed doesn’t Go figure. 😉
