My ears are full of sounds... the clanking of a fork on a plate as my brother, just returned from a long day at college, eats his dinner, the soft, homey tones of my parents' voices next to me, and the sound of my fingers tap tapping across these keys.
Tomorrow is the concert. The rescheduling seems to have raised my anticipation and my nervousness. The people that will be there, that have never been, the family and friends who have never attended a concert of ours like this. Somehow it makes my heart beat faster.
I have never been terribly nervous when before a crowd of strangers. I can sing and share with them, without thinking of what may happen afterwards. But when it is with people I know my mind races uncontrollably from thought to thought, wondering what they're thinking, what they'll say when it is all over. I stand there on the stage, singing, and suddenly my heart gets all tight within me and I sing, sing, sing, drawing a deep, relieved breath when it's over.
Perhaps I am over romanticizing. I think, perhaps, I do that too much, making the normal things in my life suddenly look like something from a book. Are you smiling? I am too. The way I tell my tale is the way I tend to see it, from my widely opened eyes, looking out on the world in an uncommonly thoughtful manner.
photo by Sam D. Ramsey
So, tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow I shall wash my hair and carefully defuse it, then slip into my silky white and burgundy print dress. I will borrow Johanna's white pumps and screw on my white drop earrings. Then, I will walk, slowly, down the stairs, slowly as to mute the sound of my heels on the wood, then traipse out to the car and get in, ready to depart.
I pray for peace, and that God will pour from my voice the love He has for His people, that they may be blessed.
Emma
photo by Sam D. Ramsey
