Ingrid Santamaria, a Filipino pianist, once wrote that learning music can be likened into the four seasons. I don’t remember the exact words she wrote, but I recall reading it, and putting down the article with much sensitivity to how I practice, how I play, and how learning a piece can also relate with how we view life in general. She also said that one cannot force a piece to be learned right away. Like a seed, it takes time to grow, nurtured, until it fully blooms. When it has reached it’s glorious height of musical sensitivity and expression, there comes a time when one can put it away. Let it fall. Let it rest. Miraculously, when one plays a piece from it’s rest, it becomes even more beautiful than the first time it was performed.
True, one cannot deny the mystery of letting something be. Having experienced my first four seasons recently, I just can’t help but have my own epiphanies of some sort about growing and letting things settle at it’s natural pace.
In walking with the Saviour, there is always that anxious thought that I might not be really growing in grace. But I have learned that these thoughts can and must be replaced instead by doing every duty that presents itself, by carrying the burden of souls in my heart, and by conceiving every means to seek and save the lost.
How does one do it?
Speak in humility of the blessed hope.
Talk of the love of Jesus.
Tell of His goodness, His mercy, and His righteousness.
Every thought of worry or fear of not growing should be banished and brought to Him. The plant does not worry whether it grows or not. Simply, it grows under the supervision of God.