"...with what you have left..."

A friend of mine sent me this story about the famous violinist, Itzhak Perlman. Read on and enjoy the profound message in this story.

Itzhak Perlman, the violinist, gave a concert at Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center in New York City. If you have ever been to a Perlman concert, you know that getting on stage is no small achievement for him. He was stricken with polio as a child, and so he has braces on both legs and walks with the aid of two crutches. To see him walk across the stage one step at a time, painfully and slowly, is an unforgettable sight. He walks painfully, yet majestically, until he reaches his chair. Then he sits down, slowly, puts his crutches on the floor, undoes the clasps on his legs, tucks one foot back and extends the other foot forward. Then he bends down and picks up the violin, puts it under his chin, nods to the conductor and proceeds to play. By now, the audience is used to this ritual. They sit quietly while he makes his way across the stage to his chair. They remain reverently silent while he undoes the clasps on his legs. They wait until he is ready to play. But this time, something went wrong. Just as he finished the first few bars, one of the strings on his violin broke. You could hear it snap -it went off like gunfire across the room. There was no mistaking what that sound meant. There was no mistaking what he had to do. People who were there that night figured he would have to get up, put on the clasps again, pick up the crutches and limp his way off stage - to either find another violin or else find another string for this one. But he didn't. Instead, he waited a moment, closed his eyes and then signaled the conductor to begin again. The orchestra began, and he played from where he had left off. And he played with such passion and such power and such purity as they had never heard before. Of course, anyone knows that it is impossible to play a symphonic work with just three strings. I know that, and you know that, but that night Itzhak Perlman refused to know that. You could see him modulating, changing, recomposing the piece in his head. At one point, it sounded like he was de-tuning the strings to get new sounds from them that they had never made before. When he finished, there was an awesome silence in the room. And then people rose and cheered. There was an extraordinary outburst of applause from every corner of the auditorium. We were all on our feet, screaming and cheering, doing everything we could to show how much we appreciated what he had done. He smiled, wiped the sweat from this brow, raised his bow to quiet us, and then he said, not boastfully, but in a quiet, pensive, reverent tone, "You know, sometimes it is the artist's task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left."

~ Jack Riemer, Houston Chronicle

The South ain't never seen THIS!

These pics were taken at our friend Matt's house in Santa Fe, New Mexico. Santa Fe was hit real hard and got twice as much snow as Loretta did in Rio Rancho. Talk about a REAL winter wonderland.

Anyone wanna go shoot some hoops in THIS weather??!! Or how about taking the car out for a spin??!! It's buried!

Is it a grill or a polar bear? Brrrrrrrrrrr......

I am never complaining about being cold again!!

Great Quote

A friend, Juanita, sent me an email tonight, and at the bottom of it, it had this quote. I've heard a few pastors say this before too, but I just loved it so I thought I'd put it up for you to ponder.

"Going to church doesn't make you a Christian any more than standing in your garage makes you a car." ~Annonymous