A serendipitous moment chanced my way the other day. Trolling through iTunes I happened upon an old music group that I used to listen to when I was growing up. It was a Christian band from the 80's called "Wendy & Mary." Anyone heard of them? The music is simple. Nothing spectacular. But the lyrics are masterfully written, stirring and sweet. These two women sang Scripture. They sang Truth. Even as a little girl, I was moved by them. Wendy & Mary had the ability to evoke peace.
An ability that came in handy in a rather unexpected way. When I was seven, living in a small town in the middle of the Mojave desert, I lived through a 7.6 earthquake. It happened in 1992, the year of the L.A. riots and Hurricane Andrew. It was the year we got rid of Zorro the dalmation and bought Belle, the miniature schnauzer puppy. It was June, just a few weeks away from my eighth birthday. Just before dawn, before the triple-digit heat could rise with the sun, the earth rocked and rolled.
Vivid snippets of memory still survive in my mind. My dad throwing himself over me to protect me. My mom catching and pushing our tv back into the entertainment center as it bounced out. The sound of glass breaking in the kitchen. The shaking seemd to last forever. I remember wondering when it would end.
Gas and water lines ruptured during the earthquake and we lived with friends for two weeks until the utilities could be restored. Hairline fractures covered the ground for miles and I remember pushing dirt back into them in our yard for weeks after. Mom bought new dishes. The kitchen linoleum had cracked and had to be replaced. But mostly? I was afraid to sleep alone.
I spent the rest of the summer sleeping on the floor next to my mom and dad's bed. The very idea of returning to my own bed terrified me, so with all the insight and resourcefulness of an eight year old, I figured I'd just sleep with my parents forever. But when September rolled around and school started, Mom and Dad said it was time for me to return to my room.
I bit my lip, shook my head, started to cry. But my parents had a plan. They put my little Fisher Price cassette player in bed with me each night. And they gave me a Wendy & Mary tape to listen to. The music played softly in my room for months as I fell asleep hearing
For one frightened little girl, these songs conjured a peace that covered each night and held the fears at bay. Only now, looking back, do I realize just how intently He was watching over me.
So imagine my delight at finding these dear old songs available on iTunes!
May I introduce Wendy & Mary to you?
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