On Numb Fingertips and Trying to Feel

So, I'm trying to learn to play the guitar.

I've always felt a powerful connection to the instrument, probably owing to the fact that it has saturated my environment since birth. My dad was a guitarist, my older brother a guitarist, my two younger brothers are guitarists (bass guitar being included, since it has 'guitar' in the name). Now my husband and his dad and all his brothers and one sister are guitarists, too. I'm starting to feel a little left out, you know?

But really, I'm trying to learn it because I want to be able to make music.

I have some lovely notions of not only singing and playing praises to my Master--but of being revived by the act of singing those praises. Ever since the miscarriage, there has rarely been a song in my heart. There's rarely been anything in my heart.

It's neither pleasant nor unpleasant to be numb; in fact, in terms of emotional pain, it feels a whole lot better not to feel anything at all. But my brain, and concerned family members, tell me that being numb is dangerous. It's more dangerous than being sad or angry, because I don't feel the discomfort that might make me do something about it. I'm content not to feel. And therein lies the threat.

So, the Still Small Voice suggests I try a little praise. I think it was in the movie Pollyanna that we all learned that if God takes the trouble to say something over and over again, He must have meant it. Singing praises, playing instruments, dancing for joy, making melodies with our hearts...the list goes on and on. And on. And on some more.

And then, at this very moment, I happen to be sitting near an open window. I can hear at least four different types of birds singing, and I know Who it is they sing for. They're just birds and have nothing, but He cares about them. I wish I could join in, but I don't know the words.

I guess we all have our own songs. Birds and whales and frogs and crickets don't play the kind of music we can play or sing, and they can't play each other's music, either. I would really like to know what they're saying. I think that someday, I will. And someday, maybe we'll all sing together, and find out that we make a great orchestra, singing in all our many languages.

So, my intent is to learn to make music, of the human variety. Right now, it isn't very fun at all. I'm not "instantly good" at this, and throughout my life, I've tended to be too much of a perfectionist to waste my time on things I wasn't good at right away (Hence, I never learned guitar, and I can't ski, crochet, or play most sports). I'm trying to conquer my own brain and continue to practice even though it seems kind of futile. My hands are weak, and small, and not stretchy, and my fingers move slowly. At least they don't hurt anymore, like they did the first few times. They're numb. That's one thing that has spurred me on. Maybe by letting my fingers go numb, my heart will stop being so?

As I end this post, I have a lot. I have numb fingertips on my right hand. I have no idea if the feeling will ever come back. I have Dave's fat book of hymns to practice with, although I have to skip all the ones with "B" and "F" because I don't know those chords yet. I have some lovely birds trilling and warbling outside in words I don't yet understand. I have some perfectionist tendencies to try to get over. And, I have some hope, because even though I don't really have a whole song in my heart, I have at least a few chords.