Atop Tad’s Christmas wish list was an item that made this muggle mother’s heart sink: Invisibility Blanket.
I can quilt.
I can sew.
I can applique, knit, crochet, and even tat.
But I can’t make an invisibility blanket.
Or can I???
As I sat today where I have sat almost every Sunday for the past three years–on the piano bench in Primary–it occurred to me that I, and other Primary pianists like me around the globe, are often shrouded by invisibility blankets. Few people ever give a moment’s thought to the person laboring behind the piano, a smile on her face while sweat drips down her pits, transparent to all except when she makes a mistake.
Thankfully, I am not in it for the glory, and heaven knows that I don’t deserve nor have I earned any accolades for my bumbling, fumbling, however well-intentioned efforts. But I know other Primary pianists, or those in other “low-profile” callings, may not be as content with invisibility.
No. No one will miss me when the new pianist starts next Sunday. Like a good scout on a camping trip, I’ve left no trace that I was ever there. But in many important ways, I’VE been changed by the calling from which I was released this morning.
I’ve learned . . .
I can do really, really, really hard things . . . like playing the piano in front people.
Practice does not always make perfect.
If I’m ever in a leadership role, I will strive to do my calling and not anyone else’s.
And perhaps most importantly, I will be more mindful of and demonstratively thankful for the efforts of fellow foot soldiers. Great effort, love and sacrifice is often behind even the quietest, most “invisible” service.
