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    Saturday, November 14, 2009


    So for my birthday, Kory and I went to Denver and saw Wicked—a play about the Wicked Witch of the West, in case you’re not familiar. Every time we go to the theater, I wonder why we don’t go more often. I wonder this because I have not just bought the tickets. In fact, I’ve had several months to forget how much they cost.

    I loved Wicked! I confess I secretly wish I could get up on stage in costume and belt out emotionally-charged ballads. Please no one tell my mother because I tease her about having the same dream.

    Sadly, I have a mousey voice, no coordination whatsoever, and the acting chops of a shy first grader. I’m not even qualified to play the Cowardly Lion. But that’s ok. Someone needs to sit in the audience and wonder how it feels to have the power to affect other’s emotions.

    Of course that’s what I try to do with the written word. I’m in awe of authors who manage to move me, not to mention artists, musicians, actors, and the inspired folks at Godiva.

    A friend of mine applies the term “singing” to a piece of writing that really showcases an author’s voice and talent. Makes sense, doesn’t it? The first time she wrote “La la la” on my chapter I thought she meant I’d taken a trip to La La Land.

    There’s nothing like the rush of knowing that you’re part of something beautiful. That in a miniscule way, you’ve emulated your Creator and produced something that wasn’t there before. And maybe it’s hard to explain to non-artistic people. You know, the ones who actually keep our world running? It’s not that they lack imagination. Their dreams and fantasies produce things like suspension bridges, satellites, vaccine, and stomach-slimming undergarments. They’re artists in their own sense.

    Every once in awhile, I wish I had a practical skill—like adding, growing tomatoes, or programming the DVR—but I wouldn’t trade my form of “singing” for all the useful skills in the world. I’m guessing those fabulous folks on stage know—in the midst of their biggest number, when their voices are pure magic, and they have the audience holding their breath—that they are doing exactly what they were meant to do. I have no doubt we were all designed to recognize that moment for ourselves.


    Kay Day said...

    Love this!

    Candee Fick said...

    In our Sunday School class, we've been studying the attributes of God - especially the ones that He passes along to us.

    Last week's list included creativity. You nailed the description. Thanks for sharing.

    Donita K. Paul said...

    My mother (Evangeline's grandmother) used to say that when she got to Heaven she was going to sing, because she had a very mediocre voice. And I am going to dance. I love graceful dancing like Ginger Rogers, worship dance, and even some line dancing. It would be such a joy to move like that AND count it as praise to God.

    Linda B said...

    It is one of my great sorrows that I can't sing. Oh, of course I can usually hit the notes all right and not embarrass myself. I just don't have a nice voice. Thankfully, I can live vicariously through a couple of my daughters, who have beautiful voices!

    Kimberley Woodhouse said...

    I love this post! Evangeline, you are amazing - and I think you are so very talented in MANY areas!
    Love you!

    Beth K. Vogt said...

    I am blessed by your writing--and it so often sings.
    Your writing adds beauty to my world, E.

    Humming along with you and the words you write.