Meet Reagan Weaver
My family is 100% not a musically inclined family. Nevertheless, in fourth grade when we were told we were going to be able to pick an instrument for 5th grade, I was bouncing off the walls with excitement.
Clarinet, flute, violin, trumpet, saxophone, viola. The options raced in my mind for months. Through a process of elimination, I ended up picking up the one I least expected, the cello. I looked wonky holding my cello, but I wasn’t going to let any uncertainty stop me. I felt called to this instrument, and to turn away felt wrong and my teacher saw this. He pulled me aside after class one day in 6th grade and handed me a business card of sweet Mrs. Linda, my cello tutor.
With Mrs. Linda, everything fell into place. I held the cello gracefully, was able to play at different volumes, memorize sheet music efficiently and even started to learn higher positions on the cello. As one can see, I was no prodigy or prophesied cellist. I was horrible and it took so much work to get where I am today, my gift took patience, love, understanding, humility.
But, my gift came with hardships; I didn’t make it into the honors orchestra or region orchestra. Solo and ensemble had some slip up’s, I was shaky and nervous. I shed so many tears over this gift, it meant the world to me.
One day in my 8th grade orchestra class, I noticed a searing pain in my left wrist that cut my playing short that day. I told my mom immediately, I was the first chair player, I had to be alright. We saw three doctors including a wrist specialist. We went from a ganglion cyst, to nothing to tendinitis. Not a single doctor was right.
My freshman year I was put into a cast for 6 weeks then when it came off I had physical therapy for 6 more weeks. I was miserable, loathsome, prideful, egotistical and upset. I missed out on the entire year of playing and when I finally got back, the pandemic ended it all.
While recovering I began talking to God, asking Him why this was happening and why I couldn’t play like I could. I got an answer I didn’t like when I woke up one morning with absolutely no passion or motivation for my cello.
I sobbed to my parents and begged them to take me out of the orchestra which they hesitantly did. The beginning half of sophomore year was spent utterly afraid of my cello. It collected dust in the corner of my room. It was sad, I could see it’s frown.
I remember waking up one Sunday morning and looking at my cello. It looked worse than it
normally did. I shrugged it off and headed to church. There, in the midst of worship, my head
down and sulking, I had this powerful, spiritual urge to lift my head and open my ears. I heard
the harmony of the song (one a cellist might play) and thought to myself, maybe, just maybe my
injury wasn’t the end of my playing. Maybe it was a reset of perspective and focus.
I went home and prayed again, asking God to open my eyes and my heart to Him. He responded through the next few church services and His answer was this: I took the glory for myself, my hunger for knowledge and learning was selfish and only for my gain and boast. I believed I was given the first chair because I worked for it, I earned it, I did it all myself. Me, me me. But where was God during all of it? Was it not Him who granted me this gift? Was it not Him I prayed to before every concert, competition or playing test?
So I flipped everything around. I took the next step forward and reached for the Faith Students worship team. I changed and so did my cello. It sang on its own sometimes, my fingers would move on their own, my bow would move differently than what was on the paper.
Every Sunday and Tuesday I am humbled by the student band. My gift is from God so let all the glory be to him and let my gift be used to reach others who may be struggling with their
walk with Christ.
I directed my hard-work and dedication to God and let the rest fall into place. My
focus shifted, my perspective changed and all I pray is that anytime I play, the glory and gain are
for God and my music opens my church’s hearts to hear our God sing through my cello.
Clarinet, flute, violin, trumpet, saxophone, viola. The options raced in my mind for months. Through a process of elimination, I ended up picking up the one I least expected, the cello. I looked wonky holding my cello, but I wasn’t going to let any uncertainty stop me. I felt called to this instrument, and to turn away felt wrong and my teacher saw this. He pulled me aside after class one day in 6th grade and handed me a business card of sweet Mrs. Linda, my cello tutor.
With Mrs. Linda, everything fell into place. I held the cello gracefully, was able to play at different volumes, memorize sheet music efficiently and even started to learn higher positions on the cello. As one can see, I was no prodigy or prophesied cellist. I was horrible and it took so much work to get where I am today, my gift took patience, love, understanding, humility.
But, my gift came with hardships; I didn’t make it into the honors orchestra or region orchestra. Solo and ensemble had some slip up’s, I was shaky and nervous. I shed so many tears over this gift, it meant the world to me.
One day in my 8th grade orchestra class, I noticed a searing pain in my left wrist that cut my playing short that day. I told my mom immediately, I was the first chair player, I had to be alright. We saw three doctors including a wrist specialist. We went from a ganglion cyst, to nothing to tendinitis. Not a single doctor was right.
My freshman year I was put into a cast for 6 weeks then when it came off I had physical therapy for 6 more weeks. I was miserable, loathsome, prideful, egotistical and upset. I missed out on the entire year of playing and when I finally got back, the pandemic ended it all.
While recovering I began talking to God, asking Him why this was happening and why I couldn’t play like I could. I got an answer I didn’t like when I woke up one morning with absolutely no passion or motivation for my cello.
I sobbed to my parents and begged them to take me out of the orchestra which they hesitantly did. The beginning half of sophomore year was spent utterly afraid of my cello. It collected dust in the corner of my room. It was sad, I could see it’s frown.
I remember waking up one Sunday morning and looking at my cello. It looked worse than it
normally did. I shrugged it off and headed to church. There, in the midst of worship, my head
down and sulking, I had this powerful, spiritual urge to lift my head and open my ears. I heard
the harmony of the song (one a cellist might play) and thought to myself, maybe, just maybe my
injury wasn’t the end of my playing. Maybe it was a reset of perspective and focus.
I went home and prayed again, asking God to open my eyes and my heart to Him. He responded through the next few church services and His answer was this: I took the glory for myself, my hunger for knowledge and learning was selfish and only for my gain and boast. I believed I was given the first chair because I worked for it, I earned it, I did it all myself. Me, me me. But where was God during all of it? Was it not Him who granted me this gift? Was it not Him I prayed to before every concert, competition or playing test?
So I flipped everything around. I took the next step forward and reached for the Faith Students worship team. I changed and so did my cello. It sang on its own sometimes, my fingers would move on their own, my bow would move differently than what was on the paper.
Every Sunday and Tuesday I am humbled by the student band. My gift is from God so let all the glory be to him and let my gift be used to reach others who may be struggling with their
walk with Christ.
I directed my hard-work and dedication to God and let the rest fall into place. My
focus shifted, my perspective changed and all I pray is that anytime I play, the glory and gain are
for God and my music opens my church’s hearts to hear our God sing through my cello.
Posted in Faces of Faith