Music has been a part of my life since before I was born. My mother had the voice of a nightingale. She often sang in church, and even made a record with a ladies’ quartet. But she saved her best melodies for my brother and me. Her sweet cradlesongs woke us in the morning and accompanied us into our evening dreams. Mother always had the perfect song to soothe me whether I was sad, or to celebrate when I was happy.
My brother has the major musical gifts in the family. He can sing, compose, and play the piano, and often all at the same time! He has played the piano for Gospel quartets, and recorded numerous albums. He has been featured at conferences and conventions, and churches all over the USA sing some of his worship songs.
At an early age, I took piano lessons from sophisticated Mrs. Blount. She probably figured out early on that I was no Frederic Chopin. Eventually, the authorities channeled me into brass. Dr. Sarley did his best to teach me trumpet. It was a bit confusing because he only played clarinet. Has anyone ever become a Doc Severinsen that way?
In Junior high school, I tried out for football, and was teamed up with Bo Sturdivant, the star athlete of the school. Just standing next to him made us look like the before and after ad for bodybuilders. An interested coach suggested that I get into the school band. That way I could attend the football games for free, and not have to worry about concussions.
My Dad was elected to pastor a church in Dallas, and I started attending Bryan Adams high school. Band started in early August at 7:00 AM. At our first practice, the band director told us to bring our mothers the next morning. When I told my mother, she said that I had to be mistaken. Why would he need the mothers to be there? I insisted that she come, and reluctantly she did. The next morning, my mother and I stood alone on the field. Kids started showing up, but no mothers.
Our director had us sit down on the field and explained that it had rained overnight, and that is why he asked us to bring old shoes (mudders). Mud, get it? Mom never let me forget that story.
I marched with the mighty Cougar band in football games and parades, while playing my trumpet. For several years, we played in the Cotton Bowl parade and at halftime. It was televised nationally, did you see me? After the first year, my band director asked me if I would like to be first chair. We had 13 trumpet players, so this was quite an honor. But then he explained that there were no French horn players. So, if I would switch to French horn, I would be first chair. Plus, he loaned me a French horn to use until I graduated. That was an honor, right?!
Even into college and beyond, music has been important to me. But one day I will be incorporated into the music of Heaven. What a day that will be. Can you imagine what it will be like? Some say they will play country/western music in Heaven. Others say it will be classical, or contemporary or Rap (no way). Whatever it is, I will be in the big middle of it all. Look for me. I’ll be the squeaky voice bumping shoulders with the 24 Elders. Check it out in Revelation Chapters 5 and 14.