Thoughts from a Musician's Heart

WE OFTEN HAVE NO CLUE by Jennifer Jones Mosher

Exodus 15:2 The Lord is my strength and my song, and He has become my salvation; this is my God, and I will praise Him, my father's God, and I will exalt Him.

Years ago, I was living in Manhattan, working temp jobs in between auditions and coachings. My friend, Lynelle, a Juilliard violinist who is also an RN, often set up and played in-home concerts for hospice patients and their families through the Visiting Nurse Association. We prepared a classical and sacred program for one such occasion, including some Christmas music since it was December. Outside that Queens apartment building, we prayed together fervently that the music would be a blessing to whoever heard it. Our appreciative family of listeners spanned at least three generations. They obviously loved it, sang along to the carols, and asked for more. It was very meaningful to us all; we thanked them and they thanked us over and over.

The next month I moved to an apartment in Astoria, Queens, vaguely noticing that it was near that hospice concert. My roommate Barb came home from her local chiropractor saying, “Hey, you’ll appreciate this.” There were only curtains between the Dr.’s stations, so Barb overheard a woman telling how it had been a rough month. While caring for her elderly mother in late-stage cancer, a violinist and singer with a keyboard sang and played for the family; they even called the grandkids from another room to stop playing and come listen. It was the last time they were all happy together enjoying each other’s company and the music, because that night her mom died.

Barb thought I’d be touched that music meant so much to them. I sure was! We figured out from the dates and details that it must have been our privilege to bring some tidings of comfort and joy to that family. Naturally, I called to tell Lynelle, and we marveled at God’s timing, feeling it a great honor to take part in this sweet lady’s homegoing. We agreed it felt like being present at the burning bush, with a sense of wanting to take off our shoes because we were on holy ground. Would it have been any less important if we never learned what Barb overheard? We agreed that it would not. Whatever we play or sing to God’s glory, the Holy Spirit uses.

I didn’t know it then, but those experiences singing or playing for patients and their families prepared me to eventually make music for my father (and years later, my mother, and others in between) during their illnesses. When nothing tastes right, pain meds don’t have much effect, and none of our usual coping mechanisms help, music may usher them into God’s very presence. Our gracious Lord allows us to participate—a high calling indeed. Doxology!

Jennifer Jones Mosher, soprano and voice teacher