Feeding Musicians

The trumpeters and musicians joined in unison to give praise and thanks to the LORD.

—2 Chronicles 5:13

I’ve been feeding musicians since I met Aaron nearly thirteen years ago, and I find them to be some of my favorite people to feed. Some, of course, absolutely live the stereotype of “starving artist,” so I’ve gotten used to packing up every last bit of leftovers and sending them with skinny guitar players and drummers, feeling maternal, knowing it’s likely I’ll never see that container again. And musicians tend to be sense-oriented people, so they notice texture and smell and flavor—the most fun people to feed, of course.

I love that we have a steady stream of musicians in our home, a community of people who believe that art and creativity and soul really matter, that making something out of nothing and telling your story—through lyrics or essays or anything at all—is noble work.

Sometimes food is the end and sometimes it’s a means to an end, and sometimes you don’t know which it is until it happens. The food and the table and the laughter help to create sacred space, a place to give someone the gift of words. That’s what some of the best nights are about—sacred space and words of love.