audience of one

For college, our band played in a Christmas event that was filled with much pomp and circumstance. Years of tradition would play out in the collaboration of the event between composers, musicians, readings, and choral pieces. We wore black and white, with a hint of red; we practiced hours and hours and when the event finally arrived, we solemnly took our places. I remember the moment of worship as clearly as I see the world around me today. As a flutist, I would play portions of each piece, counting diligently until my measure arrived, and then play as if I was in an audience of one. I remember the musicians fading away from my mind, the conductor's ferocity blending into the background, the audience slipping away as I played for my maker. It was He and I alone and despite my humanness, he was blessed by my playing. He accepted my gift, he approved of me, he delighted in me. And while I could not see him, I felt his warmth and soaked in the light; I could have played forever....