“How long did it take you to learn that song?” my dad asked, referring to the piano piece I’d played that morning at church. I was just visiting, but when the pastor saw me, he called on me to do what I have done thousands of times before – play the piano. I was out of my seat before he finished asking. Honestly, I’d anticipated it since I’m asked to play every time I attend.
I was pondering a new arrangement, and I couldn’t get the song out of my mind. I would lie awake at night, rehearsing the song mentally, seeing every key with my mind’s eye, pressing my fingers against imaginary keys, hearing the music in my head. And though it wasn’t exactly ripe for harvest, I trusted the piece would work out perfectly as I sat down at the church piano that morning.
And I made it confidently to the end, with my mistakes being known only to myself, God, and the discerning ear. Of course, they were a gracious audience who always accepts whatever I offer with a great round of applause and forgiveness. But, I’ll humbly admit, my performance hadn’t been half bad. At least I wasn’t embarrassed by it.
So when my dad asked, “How long did it take you to learn that song?” my answer surprised even me.
“45 years,” I responded, factually.
“What?” he laughed.
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s taken me a lifetime to learn everything you heard in that song.”
Now, before you think my comment was cheeky, hear me out. I began playing the piano when I was six years old, and by age 51, I’d been playing for 45 years. Every note, every arrangement, every nuance, every concept, every element of each song I play is the result of at least 45 years (and growing) of piano practice and performance. I even attribute my index fingers curving inward to my years of playing the piano. I’ve learned to control my nerves, breathing, and blood pressure when performing in stressful situations before expectant audiences. When I play the piano, I bring more than just piano-playing.
We each possess a certain amount of wisdom – experiences, challenges, opportunities, relationships, encounters, conversations. And every time you form an opinion or solve a problem, you have the opportunity to base your response on your wisdom.
My name is Tim, and I’m a wisdom seeker. My entries in this blog will ask questions, arrive at near-conclusions, and ponder the possibilities.
But, most of all, I want to help show you how to use what God has taught and brought you through so you can live wisely.
My favorite scriptures on wisdom are James 3:17, “the wisdom from above is first pure and undefiled, then peace-loving, courteous, considerate, gentle, reasonable and willing to listen, full of compassion and good fruits. It is unwavering, without self-righteous hypocrisy and self-serving guile.”
And Colossians 2:2,3 where we’re told that in Christ are hidden “all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.”
Wisdom is different from knowledge. A teacher once told me, “I’ve forgotten more than you will ever know.” So, even if you’re smart, knowledge can be forgotten. But if we’re wise, we’ll use wisdom every time we open our mouths or make a decision.
No matter how old you are, I look forward to getting wiser with you. If you have any wisdom to share, email me at Tim.Parton@3abn.org.
