Cathy Dudley

When my mother was particularly pleased with herself, a little half smile would curl her lips, and her eyes would sparkle as she thought of something brilliant. It might pop out in the middle of a conversation or during class, but it was always anunexpected surprise.

In a similar way, I think God might have been particularly pleased when He surprised me with unexpected appointments in Germany.

I’m not totally sure what I thought those 10 days would be like. As a symphonic musician, I knew playing the music would probably be the easiest part of the trip. In this, I was right. Previous trips to Russia and France gave me an inkling of the somewhat crazy pace we would keep.

So being 70 years old, I spent a couple months getting prepared to walk 4-6 miles a day, perform concerts, and sight see in Germany. In my mind, that is what we would do. I was ready to go. As long as I didn’t have to check my viola on the plane, I’d be good.

And then, on the first morning in Germany, Richie spoke from the front of the bus and said, “I want you to make connections… connections with the people in the orchestra, and connections with the people who have come to hear us.” What do you mean? I have to talk to people?

I’m an introvert. I can open the door at parties and serve from the kitchen if you want…

That’s when I heard God laughing just a little. Like the little smile on my mother’s face, He already knew what I didn’t know. How do you show the love of God without extending it first? How do you reach people if you aren’t willing to meet them?

The first appointment was with an outgoing 22-year-old from North Dakota… the first North Dakotan who’d ever been on a mission trip with GMP. Was that a coincidence? We struck up a conversation about my mother’s family, who lived in eastern North Dakota and western Minnesota. I probably knew more about the area she lived in than anyone else on the bus. And I thought, “This isn’t so bad. I can make a few connections on the bus.”

The second was my roommate, who strangely enough, was from my OWN state of North Carolina. Was that a coincidence? She had recently been hit by the horrors of Hurricane Helene only weeks earlier. I listened to her talk about this tragedy the western part of the state had been through and got a sense of what lies ahead for them.

The third was my bus buddy. For some reason I was so comfortable with her that I told her personal things I didn’t normally talk about. Was that a coincidence? I talked about the death of my mother and she told me of losing her husband unexpectedly and caring for an autistic son. We spent much time talking about things on our hearts.

I went with different groups throughout the week, meeting musicians from Alabama, Texas, South and North Carolina, and Tennessee. That would have been enough. But God wasn’t finished.

We were encouraged to go down into the audience after concerts to engage the congregation. I knew three words in German. This might be a disaster. At the very first concert in Fulda, I was surprised to see the audience full to overflowing.

At the second concert, there were 50 more people than could be contained in the building. Children were seated in the front and were so well behaved. And I thought, “Wow, look at all those people who are hungry for the Word of God!” As the music began, I watched sometimes stoic faces soften and then smile. I realized that one of my grandmothers was German. And I understood her stoicism. Was that a coincidence?

Moving toward the audience after a particular concert, I made a beeline for one lady who was heading in my direction. She had a big smile on her face, and when she told me, in English, how wonderful the service had been, she said, “I’m from Utah!” Was that a coincidence? I exclaimed, “You’ve got to be kidding! I lived in Utah and went to college there! How did you get here?” “I married a German,” she said.

At another concert, a young woman with three children spoke to me with great emotion. “I never knew my little community had so many Christians.” She felt the unity of that community at a church that was not her own. I told her I loved seeing the beautiful smile on her face, and asked how to say it in German, and she told me that was not something that was said in German. In German you would speak about the whole face shining. And I thought about all the audience members whose faces were shining. Was that a coincidence?

An older man’s face lit up as he saw me, but he spoke no English, and all I knew was “Danke” and “Gott segne dich”. We both struggled, but as he grabbed my hand with both of his, his face seemed transformed, and I felt God’s grace surrounding us both. Was that a coincidence?

I think not.

In every place we traveled, we were blessed more than our audience was. The music was outstanding. The audiences were incredible. The scenery was beautiful. But the connections were what made this a trip to remember and to treasure.

And I think God smiled.