A
chain of events strung together for us that enabled us to make a flying trip to
Waco. We got word that Josh was going to
make a cameo appearance in their special Christmas presentation of music. They were featuring no less than four grand
pianos and their organ, all going at the same time. And each piano had two people playing on it
at the same time. Awfully impressive and
intimidating situation for new pastor Josh to step into. We have been to every one of Josh’s piano
recitals since he was seven or eight years old and started lessons. How could we miss this one? Actually it looked like we were going to miss
it. Jachin’s birthday party was already
scheduled for Sunday afternoon, and we had a meeting after church about the
Bethlehem Street Market (craft fair) coming up next Saturday. There didn’t appear to be any way it would
happen. Until Christina notified us that
Jachin’s party was postponed a week because baby sister Noa was still
sick. And then who should walk through
the doors at church than … none other than Rita Boyer, the Market coordinator
for the last few years. The meeting was
in good hands (we stayed for a bit to get a handle on what else would happen
this coming week). No party for
Jachin. It’s not often my lovely wife
has a spontaneous urge, but this one was going to happen. We decided to take off and not tell Josh and
Christi we were coming. Might mean
staying in a hotel, but perhaps the surprise would be worth it.
We
arrived in Waco with an hour or so to kill before the concert began, so we went
to a local Jack-in-the-Box for a taco.
Now don’t get down on us for silly decisions. We went to Jack-in-the-Box for tacos on the night
we got married. It’s just a thing with
us. Besides, we got to drive through the
“interesting” part of Waco to get there.
Saw the Salvation Army building. And
the Greyhound bus terminal. And Mission
Waco. And one place I think they called
Our Daily Bread. Gotta say, though, that
was the cleanest looking “slum” area of any large city that I have ever
seen.
After
tacos we made our way back to the church and sat in the parking lot formulating
a plan. We determined which door to stay
away from, so we wouldn’t run into Josh, and what corridors we should avoid so
we wouldn’t see the boys or Christi.
During our deliberations, we actually saw Josh drive up and walk into
his office. One obstacle down. We made a dash for the sanctuary door. A quick trip to the bathroom (Hey, I’ve lived
long enough to understand that it’s just not worth it to be uncomfortable when
you don’t have to be). As I exited,
however, I came face to face with one of the few people who actually might have
recognized me, a fire fighter who plays in their praise band. He politely nodded, shook my hand and said, “Nice
to see you, sir.” The consummate fire
fighter politeness. But I don’t think he
knew me. Phew. Phase two down. I took a quick glance inside and saw Christi making
her “first lady” rounds and giving Luke a chance to walk around as well. Luckily, Luke was able to use his grandparent
radar and communicate with us telepathically to understand our desire for
surprise. He turned the opposite
direction. Taking advantage of the
opportunity, we made our way into the auditorium, which was quite dark. Nice cover.
We took our place among some other white haired ones, hoping to blend
in. Someone handed us a program, which
would soon prove useful.
Now
we had to wait. Christi and the boys
found a seat on the opposite side of the room.
No doubt the result of Luke’s mind control and his commitment to cover
our secret. More and more white hairs
joined us, providing a more impressive array of camouflage than we could have
hoped. I was on an aisle seat, though,
so we were not out of the woods yet. Sure
enough, Josh entered and began his pastoral walk around the room, greeting
folks. And his first target was our
aisle. He got closer and closer. We scooted as far down into our seats as we
could, hoping the Baylor alum behind us (who was apparently at the game the
last time Baylor went to the Cotton Bowl and was drummed by Bear Bryant and
Alabama) and the older couple in front of would provide enough cover. Closer and closer. He stopped to talk to the older couple,
literally right in front of us. Slowly, I
raised our program to cover our faces and pretended to be intently
reading. He passed us by, obviously not
wanting to disturb our study. He stopped
almost immediately, however, to talk with Mr. Baylor grad behind us. The program stayed up. Chris furtively glanced over my shoulder
every few seconds, but finally he moved on.
Our cover was safe. The mission
would be a success.
The
presentation was pretty amazing, I have to say, even for a bunch of pianos and
an organ and no one saying the words. It
went a lot faster than I expected for a bunch of high-brow music, and finally
it was time for Josh’s cameo appearance.
Introduced as “a pianist in another life” (hey, that would be the one
when he lived with us and was … much shorter), he made his way to the stage as
his instrument was carried in – a toy piano … and a child-sized piano
bench. Priceless. With a flourish, he whipped out his sheet
music and sat down, cracking his knuckles in anticipation. The grand piano began the introduction, and
Josh suddenly joined in … with a rousing Christmas melding of chopsticks and
Frosty the Snowman. And the crowd went
wild. When he finished his number, he
made the appropriate bow and hurried off the stage, but not before a lone voice
rang out from the darkened back of the room, “Attaboy Josh.” Hey, I did it at all of his other
recitals. Why should this one be any
different?
We
finally revealed our presence after the performance, and enjoyed a laugh together
over the success of our subterfuge. Oh,
and yes, we do have it on video.
Proverbs
11:13 says, “A gossip betrays a
confidence, but a trustworthy man keeps a secret.”
Father,
thank you for fun secrets and cameo appearances. Amen.
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