Christ raising Lazarus, Caravaggio
IT was the end of a string of six concerts in several small towns on the Canadian prairies. The turnouts were poor, usually less than fifty people. By the sixth concert, I was beginning to feel sorry for myself. As I began to sing that night several years ago, I looked out at the audience. I could’ve sworn that everyone there was over ninety! I thought to myself, "They probably can’t even hear my music! Moreover, are these really the people you want me to evangelize, Lord? What about the youth? And how am I going to feed my family….?" And on and on the whining went, as all the while I kept playing and smiling at the quiet audience.