Practice

I took this picture of Heather practicing yesterday for fun, and found myself thinking about practice. I have been blessed with the ability to do things well the first time around, things like school, a new sport or teaching a group of kids at church. This can, of course, be a dangerous thing especially since I didn't have lessons or extra curricular classes when I was young to teach the importance of practice. I have, however, had very meaningful lessons in practice, both good and bad. I'll share the best of both.

In college, I had to take a Biology class. Groan. I was not a science girl, but since I had to take one, I chose Genetic Biology. This seemed fitting because of my Child Development major, and I thought the knowledge might come in handy. It was still science, and because of the material not being repetitive (I really never mastered meiosis and mitosis in high school), I had to work a little harder for a good grade. In order to really get to know the material, I took my notes home each week and recopied them on to note cards. Then I used the notecards to study from. As each quiz and test were taken, I would be shocked at the A I would see on the paper. I was an A student, but never in science or math. When the semester came to a close, I purged my binder and book bag as usual, but I couldn't part with those note cards. That A meant more to me than all the other As I always received. I had finally had a lesson in working hard and earning the accomplishment through practice. I've never forgotten that lesson.

Another lesson I haven't forgotten is the one in which I didn't practice and fell flat on my face. I was to play my flute for a church meeting as I had done other times. I reviewed my music enough to not be sight reading, and I thought myself prepared. In the moments before I played, I was surprised at how calm I felt. I thought I had arrived at some point where nerves wouldn't bother me anymore. I was so calm that I missed some notes and ended up really messing up the flow of the number. I learned that with practice, things are more automatic, kind of like what they say about muscle memory. I also learned that nerves are something that keep you focused. I've pretty much welcomed the nerves ever since. I have also welcomed the blessings of preparing as my prayers are answered to have the music I play sound pleasing to the congregation. When we work hard, we are blessed.

We are in a place right now where our daughters need to learn about practice. Jenna wants to quit piano. I told her that we wouldn't quit until she had had several weeks of practice in a row. She had been discouraged at piano lessons, but had not connected that it was because she wasn't practicing. All of the sudden she is practicing (wanting to show me it won't change her mind), and the music is coming easier. She is having more fun and I haven't heard her talk about quitting for a while. She may still want to quit, but both girls are reaping the rewards of practicing. I hope these memories stay with them and that they learn that practice time is something to be welcomed, not dreaded. I'm really thankful for the lessons I've had, not that it will motivate my children at all. But at least I won't wonder if it's really necessary to encourage practice; I know it is, and that's what I'll practice while I preach it.