I have long been a fan of classical music. My tastes veer toward the standards of Baroque and Romantic eras as well as heart-achingly optimistic composers like Aaron Copeland. Pieces by other composers, however, don’t always bring me great enjoyment – especially those that are more abstract or impressionistic in nature. (My taste in classical music, it seems, matches my taste in classical art.)

Therefore, I don’t listen to a lot of Rachmaninoff. This Russian genius lived and composed at a time when styles of music both in Russia and around the world were evolving to something different than what had become standard in past centuries. While including piano solos of severe length and breathtaking magnitude, he brought in moments of orchestrated angst and a stunning range from nearly silent bits to heart-pounding climaxes and ear-pounding cacophonies.

Last night, I had the surprisingly pleasurable experience of listening to Rachmaninoff’s Third Piano Concerto. I took my dad out for a birthday celebration, and we attended the Omaha Symphony’s Rachmaninoff/Tchaikovsky concert. I listened to the pieces – as I sometimes do – beforehand. And I was so sure I would enjoy the Tchaikovsky piece (Symphony No. 2) much more than the other.

But that was before soloist Natasha Paremski took the stage and took our breath away with her jaw-dropping performance. The author of the program notes was spot on when he quoted the New York Herald’s original critique of the piece: “…although it’s great length and extreme difficulties bar it from performances by any but pianists of exceptional technical powers.”

Ms. Paremski was such a pianist. And I decided that Rachmaninoff in person is a whole lot different than Rachmaninoff on a recording. Part of the awe and delight of hearing his work comes from watching the pianist nearly pound the piano into the stage while displaying so much passion. When she finished, we expected her to be exhausted. Instead, she was invigorated to return to the stage and play an equally challenging (but shorter) piece for us in an encore as if she hadn’t just played, nearly non-stop, impossibly challenging music for almost 40 minutes!

Rachmaninoff still isn’t my favorite composer, but I have a much greater appreciation for him today than I ever have before. Yet, what struck me as I listened to the whole concert last night was: the audacity of how you and I have been created.

God, in His infinite power and majesty, could have created us as robots or minions. He could have left us without a brain or a heart. He could have pre-programmed us like fully-loaded computers we take home from electronics stores, capable of only outputting what He or others put into us.

But God, in all of His love and beauty, didn’t stick to the could-haves. He created us to possess many blessed traits. And among those is something I will call createableness. We don’t have unlimited power and resources to create things on His scale. (That’s good – there only needs to be one of Him in the universe. 🙂 ) We do, however, have gifts and abilities endowed by Him to compose and write and sculpt and demonstrate and inspire. The Creator has given us – on a scale that our human minds and hearts can try to embrace – the gift of both creating goodness and appreciating the goodness that others have created.

And the habit of pausing to notice and be grateful for this gift of His is one supremely worthwhile of cultivation.

In the comments section, I encourage you to share about some goodness you’ve created or some good creation in which you’ve delighted.