Tag: life

It Is Done: More Than a Resume

Published on by noteworthymommyLeave a comment

Well… it is done.

I have submitted my resume and cover letter for a potential new job, one that combines the gifts God has given me with 32 years of experience. And let me tell you, it was no small task. My old resume? Lost somewhere on an old flash drive or hard drive from a few devices ago. So I started from the very beginning. From scratch. A flashback to a lifetime ago.

There was something surreal about seeing my life laid out on paper…32 years of education and experience. My work life, anyway. Line by line, role by role, it brought back memories. Some sweet, some difficult. It made me proud. These accomplishments have shaped me, refined me, and, in many ways, defined me.

Maybe they shouldn’t define me as much as they have but I’ve always been goal-oriented, always looking toward the next mountain to climb, the next thing to conquer.

And then, in the middle of all of this reflection, a humbling (and slightly hilarious) reality check. Mini Me said, “My teacher hasn’t even been alive for 32 years!” She made sure I knew it! Loud and clear.

As I filled in names of past supervisors and references, I found myself walking back through conversations long tucked away. Some with my graduate school mentor. I could almost see her again, sitting across from that younger version of me, an energetic, optimistic young teacher who truly believed she could change the world.

And maybe, in small ways, I did!

Because as I looked over every position, every transition, every unexpected turn, I could see something so much bigger than a career path. I could see God’s hand. In the hard decisions. In the closed doors. In the leaps of faith. In the moments I didn’t understand at the time. He already knew the ending when I was just standing at the beginning.

What a blessing to say “I’ve lived an extraordinary life, not because it was perfect, but because it was purposeful.”

And yet, as I typed and reflected, I was reminded of something even more important. So much of who I am isn’t even on that resume. Becoming a wife. Becoming a mother. Being a daughter. Being a friend.

Those roles might show up in a short answer on an application, tucked into a line or two, but they are not bullet points. They are not measurable achievements. Yet they are the greatest gifts. They are the truest parts of who I am. They are where love is lived out daily in the ordinary, in the unseen, in the moments that will never make it onto paper but matter the most.

Lately, I’ve also been singing in the requiem choir at funerals, and our pastor reads the obituary of the deceased. Maybe that’s why my mind has been lingering here, thinking about legacy, about a life lived. And with a sweet young friend currently on hospice, that reflection feels even closer, more real.

But what is really important? As a Lutheran, I know this truth deep in my soul: My place in heaven is not defined by anything on that resume. Not the titles. Not the accomplishments. Not the years of service. Not even the good works done in His name.

This life, this faith, is not about works. It’s about Jesus! Yes, I strive to glorify God in all that I do. Yes, my faith has grown and my outreach has expanded. But none of those things earn me anything when it comes to eternity. Only one thing matters. Jesus. His sacrifice. His love. His suffering on the cross.

And as we walk through this Easter season, I can’t help but return to His final words: “It is finished.” (John 19:30) It is done. Not “almost done.” Not “keep striving.” Not “earn your way.” Done. Complete. Finished.

The work that truly saves, the work that truly matters was never mine to accomplish. It was His.

So my resume is done. But more importantly, the greatest work of all has already been completed for me. And because of that, I am free. Free to work. Free to serve. Free to love. Free to be a wife, a mother, a daughter, and a friend. No need to earn anything because I already have everything in Him.

All glory to God.

My Musical Mentor and Friend

Published on by noteworthymommy3 Comments

It’s an honor to share a few words about someone who left a positive mark on my life—Mike Montague.

Mike and I shared something special from the start—we were both Christmas babies, born on December 25th, 24 years apart. We also have loving partners named Ken, and share a deep passion for music. For twenty years, we sat side by side in the Northwinds Concert Band, clarinets in hand and music in our hearts. But more than that, Mike was my musical mentor.

He was an extraordinarily talented musician, always in pursuit of the perfect sound. Whether it was offering me alternate fingerings, helping me figure out a tricky passage, or suggesting small changes to improve tone, Mike’s guidance was always spot-on. He was constantly tinkering—trying new combinations of mouthpieces, ligatures, and barrels, searching for just-the right sound. He even made his own reeds—some of the best I’ve ever played on! His knowledge was vast, and he shared it so generously.

But it wasn’t just musical wisdom he passed along. Every Tuesday night at rehearsal, Mike delivered gentle life lessons—little pieces of insight I didn’t always realize were treasures until much later. In his soft-spoken way, he encouraged, uplifted, and taught me how to truly listen, not just to the music, but to life.

Mike supported me in everything I pursued. When I told him about my work as a reading consultant, he lit up with curiosity and pride. You see, Mike was also a scientist. His passion for science matched his love of music, and our conversations would often dive deep into the science of reading, the science behind music, and everything in between.

When I became a mother, Mike beamed with pride. He always mentioned how smart she was going to be because she had two musicians for parents. Mike was fascinated not just by my daughter’s musical genetics—offering tips on how to develop her perfect pitch—but also by her very existence. I call her my “miracle baby” but I think Mike was thrilled that she existed through the advancements in science, she being an IVF baby! I shared weekly reports about her antics and her growth, and this brought him pure joy.

One moment that has stayed with me happened on my 50th birthday, as I approached this milestone, Mike gave me a piece of advice that I now carry into my 50s. He said, “Enjoy your 50s. You’ve got the smarts—you’ve learned so much—and you still have your health. Now’s the time to live life, go places, do things, and share your wisdom.”

Mike’s words have become my mantra. They inspired me to take charge of my health, to lose over 50 pounds, and to find the courage to use my voice, to not be afraid to speak up, advocate for others, and to live life fully. I’m still a work in progress, but Mike’s voice echoes in my heart and keeps me moving forward.

The last concert Mike and I played together in December 2023.

So, in honor of Mike, I encourage you to take his advice to heart:

Live fully. Share your wisdom. Embrace the music. And celebrate the beautiful differences that make life so rich.

Thank you, Mike, for your music, your science, your kindness, and your light. Your legacy lives on in every note we play, every life you touched, and every Tuesday night memory we carry with us.

*I read these words at Mike’s “Celebration of Life” service on June 21, 2025. I also had the great privilege of performing the piece Rhosymedre, arranged for clarinet quintet.