PUBLIC ANNOUNCEMENT:

Let it be known on this day forth and forever more that D was right. I was wrong.

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Have you ever had someone give you a song? I know that couples often have "their song," the one that marks some special moment or thought between them. But I am speaking of a gift. I received one from D and am still moved by the gift, by the lyrics she chose to place in my heart and in my life.

I enjoy music. For as long as I can remember, I have harbored dreams of being a singer. Not the American Idol type, or any great artist for that matter. Rather, I dreamed that I was singing in a dark and dusty club with friends who find the same joy I do in song, in savoring lyrics as much as melody and harmony.

One of the best times in my life was when I sang with a touring group for nearly a year. We practiced for hours and hours on end, and I cannot honestly say whether or not I cared more for the practicing than the performance. Working out each note, bathing in song all the while. Of course, the best part about practice is that we always covered our work in prayer, often lasting a half hour or more even though it felt as if but a few minutes had passed.

During that time, I also taught myself to play the guitar, practicing for hours on end...literally making my fingertips bleed. After a few months, I could strum quite a few chords, save for F, and learned the praise songs I enjoy most.

However, I do have a fatal flaw when it comes to my musical dreamings: I have absolutely, positively no rhythm. None. Nada. I cannot clap and sing at the same time. I can clap. I can sing. I cannot do both. I cannot keep time. I cannot follow the beat. I am rhythmless.

During the performances, I would hide in the background where folks wouldn't notice my failing as much and delighted in solos and duets for the fact that I got to hold something (the microphone). Of course, both solos and duets were problematic if it meant that I had to start singing, rather than merely step into the middle. Starting is hard since I have no ability to keep the beat and count measures to know when to begin.

This is also a problem with the guitar. I can accompany myself just fine...but when it comes to playing with others, that whole rhythm thing crops up again. I feel as if I do a dandy job of playing to a steady beat. I must admit, however, that no one has ever seconded that opinion and that leading worship at bible studies was not so successful.

One time. One time I had the joy of playing with another musician. She was in my mother-daughter book club and could play just about any instrument you put before her. One evening, I had the girls over to my house. When she found the bamboo flute from Cameroon that I own, she picked it up and started playing. I got out my guitar and played a hymn with her. The reason I could is that she played around me, not with me. Her notes enriched my own, and the entire experience was oh, so very heady for me. In that moment, I totally and absolutely understood why it is that people hang out in garages, work dead-end, low-wage job, and play in seedy dives just to be in a band.

Because music means so much to me, I have given it to others over the years. Back in the dark ages, and the way you passed on music, I made cassette tapes for my friends. I would labor for days to record mixes of my favorite songs. The invention of the CD burner was a great boon to me. The time for my creations dropped to hours.

However, I have found a bit of disappointment in the offerings I have made. For example, I most recently gave three people a mix of Chris Rice songs that were quite important to me. This time, the crafting time did extend to days, between the song selections and the order. I was quite excited, primarily because I thought the mix reflected some of the changes that God has wrought within me over the past year.

While one friend has let me know she enjoys the CD and another mentioned that she liked the artist and looked forward to listening to it, neither one got my message. I admit, I am disappointed about that.

Anyhow, even though I have given music to others, I have never received the gift of a song in quite the manner I did this week.

All of my messages were about me...essentially. They were lyrics that touched me, melodies that captivated me, harmonies that moved me. They were songs I thought the other person would enjoy and wanted to share. They were collections that spoke not in one song but through the whole.

D gave me a song. A single song. A single song that voices so perfectly an expression of love and friendship in words written by another but made real by D. I could hardly respond to her call when she checked to see if I received it. Two days have passed as I struggled to write of the measure of her gift, a gift that is most decidedly an act of Grace from God.

I am mightily blessed by the women God has brought into my life (even if I would prefer that at least one of them live in the same state as I) and by the perfection of His timing.

Would that I could remember this more often.