Greg and I met while he was in seminary back in 1995, so it seemed natural that he’d be interested in a woman who played the piano. Playing the piano is one of the unspoken requirements of a pastor’s wife. (Greg was a pastor when we married.) Sometimes I sing in the choir, but I never teach Bible studies. What’s more, I’m too direct to be sweet, too good humored to be well-tempered. So if we’re keeping track here, that leaves me 2-3. I can make a good casserole, but that won’t even the score since we’re not Baptists.

Over the years, I’ve been the regular pianist wherever we were members, and at our present church, I stepped down when I delivered our fifth baby earlier this year. The good thing about playing the piano is that I enjoy it. The two bad parts are difficult choir pieces sporting five-finger quintuplets in the key of B (which is the very worst key to play in, next to E) and the overload at Christmas time. But ‘tis the season.

Whenever I get the chance to play, though, I take it. This past weekend I got to fill in for our annual Thanksgiving dinner program on Saturday and then for Sunday services. Since Greg was in Alaska on business for the previous 7 days, this made rehearsal time more challenging. As an aside, while in Alaska, Greg dropped in for dinner with longtime blogosphere friend Molly and her husband Jeff. You would most likely recognize Molly as the founder of Choosing Home. Meeting all kinds of new friends and some kindred spirits has been the greatest perk of maintaining a little corner online. Every state we’ve passed through, we’ve connected (or tried to) with someone online.

To get back on topic, once you reach a certain proficiency at a particular genre, like hymns, it is easy to slip into what I refer to as “The Zone.” The easiest way to explain it is that it’s like driving a stick. Once you learn to do it, it’s automatic (except I’m still talking about a stick, not an automatic). Playing hymns is like driving a stick. I have to tell myself not to go into The Zone because then I lose count of what verse we’re on or sometimes a tricky little chord progression will sneak up. To go back to the driving analogy, this would be like a beady-eyed watermelon-eating raccoon running out in front of your car. You have to be alert so that you can slow down (or speed up, depending on how you feel about coons).

To guard against The Zone, sometimes I’ll try something interesting like modulating to another key. You shouldn’t do this when other instruments are playing with you or they will not like you. I’m sure about this. There are other little things that you can do to avoid The Zone: playing an octave higher, putting the melody in your left hand, making substitutions like major and minor 7’s and 9’s… or just watching the conductor/leader.

Sometimes I live my life in The Zone, cruising along and not paying much attention. Life is too short not to live fully every day. There are a few things that help me stay focused—God’s Word, being quiet, and remembering that we are not promised tomorrow. I suppose there will always be the proverbial stray raccoon, but if everyone would just speed up, maybe there’d be fewer of them. I feel very certain that all good pastor’s wives would slow down, though.