Today was my birthday and after many delays, I did go to River Market Antiques late this afternoon to look for something mid century to put on my outside door. In my search, I came across this drummer. I'm not quite sure how old, but probably from the 60s at least. He was standing in a dark corner, his little animated hands going up and down. As I passed by, I gave him a glance and then as I walked a few steps on, I realized something was bothering me about this guy. I didn't hear a drum. He might have SEEMED to be playing a drum, but as I looked at him, I realized that his hands never touched the drum. The hands stopped in mid air about two inches above the drum head...over and over and over. It was kind of sad, really. Here he was, supposed to be a drummer and the mechanics wouldn't let him pat the drum. Did the manufacturer think it would be too irritating for whomever purchased him to hear the drum beat over and over? Did it have some kind of malfunction and he once COULD hit the drum??? I don't think this last is true, because the drum looked like it had not been played. Tis very sad to me.
It is my birthday and I always get a little melancholy when I think back over the year. Where have I gotten so close, but didn't get to hit that drum? When did I play the drum too loudly? When did I get it JUST RIGHT? When have the pastor and churches been too tentative? When have the pastors pushed too hard too fast? When was the only sound a visitor heard was a slow dirge instead of a marching band when they came to church for the first time? When was a hurting member surrounded with what felt like to her the heartbeat of God as her sisters and brothers in Christ enveloped her in their arms and that throbbing place in her soul faded away?
Just some thoughts on my 54th...I like maturing, I just don't like the arthritis :-) ( I also like snow days, but don't like to drive on snow)...SKCJ
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