Miriam
somehow thought to grab her tambourine when the call came that night. Like so many slaves before them, they were going to attempt an escape—a mass flight—and their captors would give chase. People were all packing food, essential medications, water, but as she ran out the door Miriam seized her tambourine. She knew she’d need it for the after-party.
Moses and Aaron, her two little brothers, were in charge of the escape plan, but Miriam was in charge of joy.
As the first prophetess, she could see things unfold before they came to be. She knew they were going to make it, though a ragged rabble had no serious chance of beating the Egyptians who would come after them in iron chariots with swords and spears and armor. But Miriam believed in deliverance, and when the whole company crossed the parting Red Sea, and the pursuers were drowned in the collapsing sea wall, they all huddled, panting, on the far shore. When finally they had caught their breath, they heard the ringing rattle of a tambourine, and someone singing—one lone voice of triumph that swept through the throng, pulling all the women into a song of joy while the tears were still wet on their faces (Ex. 15).
Did I mention that Miriam was ninety years old?
Most of us need someone in charge of joy. We go through tough periods, crises. And when deliverance comes, we hardly take a breath much less a break. In the weirdness of modern life, calamity can become a constant state. When one wave passes, we just get ready for the next one. We don’t stop to rejoice, to sing, dance, give thanks, have a party.
Whatever mountain looms ahead of you, whatever emergency demands your attention today, take whatever tools and resources you need to survive. But don’t forget to grab your tambourine.
COMPANIONS ON THE WAY
Introduction
Stories of Turning
Week One
Stories of Wild Places
Week Two
Stories of Dogged Faith
Week Three
Stories of Mercy & Forgiveness
Week Four
Stories of Simplicity & Joy
Week Five
Stories of Prayer & Surrender
Week Six
Stories of Transforming Love
Thanks, David. When I was getting ready to go to seminary, my friend Jen bought me a tambourine – in case the seminary thing didn’t work out, street performing might be a good alternative. It got played more often than I expected, by other students and my two sons. I still have it. I guess I’ll keep it for another 30+ years – just in case I need to break it out in celebration when I’m in my nineties!
Yeah—hang onto that thing…into your nineties!—what a great story.
You’ve inspired me Johnna (along with Miriam), to go dig out my tambourine from my teaching days. By the time I reach my 90s I should be pretty good. 😊
We went to a party Saturday night for St Luke’s Parish School. There was this great band there from NYC but as usual, the dance floor stayed pretty empty for 2/3 of the evening. We finally made our move out there when my legs refused to sit still any longer and the tambourine got passed around as we all GOT AFTER IT out there! I even mistakenly caught on fire at the cheese platter going after my 7th piece of cheese! The lead singer shouted “That dude’s on fire!” I’m a sober 54 year old white dude crushing it on the dance floor and catching on fire to promote my 3 year old’s (lol) school associated with a parish that means so much to me. Troubles abound but that tambourine stays close by.
Matt, if it’s possible, I’ve gotten more joy out of envisioning you on that dance floor than you had in the dance.
You’ve inspired me Johnna (along with Miriam), to dig out my tambourine from my teaching days. By the time I reach my 90s I might be pretty good. 😊
Im amazed that so many people actually have a tambourine on some random closet shelf. This is great!