This is the first picture I ever saw of Levi. I found it on a routine google image search when we first met. You’ll notice he’s on a big stage, and that he’s in the spotlight. So talented…


This past weekend Levi performed in a musical theater review. He didn’t want to do it, but sort of got guilted/obligated/dragged into the whole thing. But after the first (five-hour) rehearsal he admitted—as if it were a secret—how much fun he had. 

This didn’t surprise me even a little. I won’t go into detail about the kind of a singer he is, because I suppose many will find the proud little wifey routine irksome, but for the purpose of this post I have to say that Levi happens to be a true talent. Watching him up on stage I almost fell over in delight that I had married the most talented man in the world.

Underneath the thrill there was this tinge of sadness, however, that we would go home that night and Levi would be a lawyer again. He’s much better at music than he is at law.

It kills me that this man I love spends his days writing memos, when at times all I think he would really need to be happy is an accompanist.

He could have tried to make a living off of his voice, and the general consensus is that he would have succeeded, but he decided long before he knew me that it wasn’t worth the things it would cost him. I’m no standout myself (I’m not saying I don’t have talents, just none so blatant), so it wasn’t until I met someone who in deference to the loftiest of man’s goals had to deliberately set aside his most obvious gifts that I started envying those people who always knew that the thing they were really good at was investment banking or computer programming.

It’s not actually a problem. Like, I’m not actually complaining that my husband has a good job that boo-hoo he doesn’t love. What’s more, I don’t doubt that worlds are gained by people doing things precisely because they aren’t good at them, or that in the end, it doesn’t terribly matter how we got along, just that we did. I’m just talking about a little sadness.

But enough that whenever I see a hunter gathering, I wish I were hiring. In the job interview I would say, “I’m looking for someone who is willing to do whatever they’re best at. I’ll give you an office (or a garden, or a court, or a rocking chair) and a paycheck–just be spectacular.”

Sometimes I think that in the Kingdom of God we’ll all get to do the things for which we’re best suited. The people who are good at administering will administer, and the people who are good at ministering will minister. The people who are good at teaching will teach, and my sweet Levi will sing the closing hymn.