When I first started the interview process for the Race, one of the questions I asked was, “Am I allowed to bring my ukulele?” My interviewer laughed and said, “Of course!” I replied with: “Oh, good! Because I think I would die without it!” My ukulele is a concert uke with a cute pink ribbon tied around the neck. I’ve had it for nearly three years and it has traveled the globe with me. Now, as I’m preparing to leave for Nepal, my ukulele has found a new home in Manipur, India.
Just about a month ago, we spent two amazing days at Agape Care Center, a rehabilitation center for men struggling with addiction.The first days, we had a panel where the men could get to know us and ask us questions about our stories and life in America. There was a man named Immanuel sitting in the front and he asked if any of us could play any instruments. I whipped out my giant ukulele case (my squad would always joke about it being a violin) and said, “Yes, yes I can.” I had originally brought it for worship, but Immanuel’s deepest desire was to learn how to play “Fearless” by Taylor Swift. So, we spent our last hour belting T Swift and learning chord progressions. He was a fast learner and made me promise to bring my instrument the next day. Immanuel was so dedicated. He drew out every single chord I could teach him in his notebook and practiced for hours. There was something in my heart that began to stir. There was no way he would be able to keep practicing. He couldn’t leave the rehab center until his program was finished and the center didn’t have a ukulele. This made my heart ache.
Music has brought me so much healing and joy and self-expression throughout my whole life. When I got frustrated or sad when I was little, I would rush to the piano and play away until I felt better. In my early teenage years, I learned complicated finger picking to focus and calm myself down when I had panic attacks. Turning up the volume on Spotify, screaming the lyrics, and dancing in my bedroom is basically therapy. I wanted to share that gift with Immanuel and the rest of the men at Agape Care Center. It felt like the Holy Spirit was asking me to give my ukulele to Immanuel. So, I did.
Several days later, my ministry host asked if I could go back and dedicate the instrument to the center and pray over the men and the music they would create. It was so, so sweet. The excitement of something new sparked the eyes of the men. God gave me healing through the music I got to make on that ukulele, and now I know He’s going to do the same in Immanuel and the others. My heart was full to bursting. It’s not often you get to share your passion with men in a rehab center in the middle of Northeastern India. I’m so grateful I got to be a part of that.
Giving away my ukulele was definitely bittersweet. It’s been through a lot! Love songs quietly sung in my bedroom. Mournful prayers hummed and whispered in the middle of the night. Singing with my first team, Humbly United, in a tiny church in Romania. Teaching Anya and Tanya how to play in Ukraine, and laughing when we messed up. Jamming its huge case into overhead compartments in airplanes or between my legs on dozens of buses. Bad homesick days, sitting on my yoga mat, strumming along to the rain in India. Singing with my squad mates on the beach in Chile. Open mic nights in a brightly painted cafe in Peru. Airport jam sessions. Acing runs and harmonies and the ever challenging bar chord. Sharing songs and ideas and laughter on boring afternoons.
Sacrificing something so good and beautiful and memorable for something that is going to be so much better is a lesson God keeps bringing up over and over again. He knew what He was doing when He asked me to give my uke away. I hope and pray that much healing will come from this for the men at Agape Care Center, for God is our healer. He promises freedom and refuge. Even in the form of an 18 year old’s little pink ribbon-adorned ukulele.
-Emm
