In 1905, Civilla Martin and her husband were on a spring vacation when she came up with the words of today’s communion piece that Carolyn is singing. They struck up a friendship with the Doolittles on that trip. Mrs. Doolittle had been bedridden for nearly twenty years. Her husband had a disability that bound him to a wheelchair. But despite these issues, they were a bright and cheerful pair. Civilla was struck by that and inquired of their secret, to which Mrs. Doolittle replied, “His eye is on the sparrow, and I know He watches me.”  That poignant little phrase sparked Civilla’s imagination, and the rest is history.

I’m a sucker for this hymn. One of my favorite recordings of it is from “The Joy of Music,” sung by Willa Dorsey and accompanied by Diane Bish. https://youtu.be/3usCW0t10UE

Willa Dorsey is captivating in this recording. Her eyes sparkle, and that enormous face is rapturous! I love how she takes so many liberties, and both of the performers are having a ball. There are a few moments where Diane Bish, the accompanist, seems surprised by Dorsey’s improvisatory freedom! Her smile gives it away.

Masterful performers, like the ladies in the aforementioned video, make it to a level of technical proficiency that allows them to let go and jump, so to speak. The problem is, few take the plunge. If you know how to do something well, you can trust your body. But too many musicians get fussy and fear a mistake. So, they clench down, and hold on for dear life as they perform. The result is a fearful, lifeless, and heavy performance. A good performer not only draws you in, but they put you at total ease.

Children don’t fear creativity. They draw crude stick figures, color outside of the lines, and enthusiastically share their chicken scratch. Persnickety musicians, however, take their craft too seriously and heavily self-identify with the product. Thus, if the outcome is flawed, their ego gets bruised. What a pity! Too many musicians fear throwing caution to the wind. Really good musicians are careful in preparation, but then they trust themselves and allow the spirit to move them into a stage of being “carefree.” That’s what allows them to play, to enjoy, and to be free from inhibition. It is daring to let ‘er rip, but what faithful act isn’t daring? A good musician trusts that their body will do exactly what’s necessary.

The sparrow has no care in the world. She knows she can trust her wings to fly, and that her voice will allow her to whistle perfectly each time. Oh, that I too could be so free in my own music-making! The advanced execution of complex music comes with so much work, that I cannot even begin to unpack that truth for you. But to be so proficient that you can turn music into child’s play when you perform – that’s a rare glimpse of the divine, seen in so few.  

When I take music too seriously, I watch this video, and it reminds me that after the hard work, I can ease up and just play. When I do that, the music is somehow more vitalized. I think it’s because it’s infused with a trust in the whimsy of the Holy Spirit. But that only comes when you’re thoroughly prepared and can let go and take a chance; unfortunately, too many musicians are simply afraid to do that.  Soli deo Gloria!