I’ve always wanted to be able to play piano, and what I imagine playing are hymns. It’s not just that I was once called to be primary pianist (true story) on the assumption that the wife of such a musically intense man must surely must be competent at the piano. (On further information, the call was withdrawn.) It’s also that I’m frankly amusical, and what I like most in music is the familiar. And I’ve been going to church longer than I’ve been listening to Maroon 5.

But taking piano as a mom of young children meant finding 30 minutes a day without anyone tugging on me, and I found if I made those free 30 minutes a day, I didn’t devote them to “Sunny Parade.” Not when there are novels and naps and teaching myself to back up a MySql database instead. So piano practice for me as an adult didn’t work out. My younger sister took up piano at the same time, and she’s playing all the hymns now, so people of character can do it. You rock, Trish.

I’m at the piano again, perhaps third time is the charm. No teacher this time, just me and the keyboarding course I ordered from church distribution last month. I skipped ahead to page 57 and spent Sunday afternoon with “Jesus, the Very Thought of Thee.” One note at a time, decades of familiarity, and a sweetness I don’t have to wait until I’m good enough for.

If I make it up to playing both hands at the same time, I’ll let you know.

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3. To Suffer For Their Sake

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