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Finally … the day was winding down. I was trying to come up with something nutritious or delicious for dinner … and it wasn’t happening. So many forms of kid activity were going on all over the house, from school projects, homework and practicing musical instruments to trying to distract a sibling from previously listed activities. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I was thankful for the orchestra of chaos going on behind me. But there was one challenge greater than my last nerve.
It was the cello.
There in the dining room … just a few feet away from my tired brain … was my sweet, young boy … with cello held perfectly in his hands while resting it on the floor … music propped up in front of him … bow being swept across the strings … back and forth … back and forth … back and forth. On and on it went. One scratch of nails on a chalkboard after another. Make it stop! I can’t take it any longer. Please make it go away. Who signed him up for this? Doesn’t he enjoy basketball more than this? What did I do to deserve this?
And then all was quiet. I heard the instrument being laid down … and I took a slow, sustained breath. Thank You, Lord.
Christmas was here before we knew it, and our calendar was full of parties and school concerts. One chilly evening, we hurried through dinner and piled into the van, rushing to the school for the Christmas performance. And oh … there he was … up on stage … dressed so smartly … cello held so confidently, with bow poised … waiting for the cue from the conductor’s baton.
The orchestra began to play. And what to my wondering ears should appear … but a beautiful melody that I knew and loved! The strains of a well known Christmas carol flowed over us … each part of the arrangement being played by a different instrument … of which our sweet boy was a part. All of the horrible scratching and screeching played alone at home now blended harmoniously with the orchestra … making beautiful music and perfect sense.
I grabbed my husband’s arm and whispered far too loudly in my excitement … “Hun … it was a song. Listen! It was a song he was playing!”
Over the past few years, we have been walking a difficult, painful journey with our loving daughter, Anna, and her family. As she battled her cancer so valiantly, pressing through pain, nausea and exhaustion, often my heart would cry out, “Make it stop! I can’t take it any longer. Please make it go away.” But on and on it would go … back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. One day, the God who Anna loved and served, declared her work on earth to be over. He reached down and claimed her, lifting her gently in His loving arms and carried her Home. “Well done, good and faithful servant.”
One day soon … her dad and I and family will be there with her … reunited. As we stand to worship the King of Kings and Lord of Lords … as the music swells … I have a feeling that I’ll reach over and grab my husband’s arm and say without whispering … “Hun… it was a song!” Because, there, in the Presence of the Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End, the Anointed One, Emmanuel, the Redeemer, the Holy One, the Omnipotent One, the I Am, the Lamb of God, the Messiah, the Sovereign God with the Master Plan … yes, there … the painful, discordant sounds will all make sense. They will blend harmoniously with the symphony of praise, surrounding us with swells of worship such as we have never imagined … as we lay our crowns at His feet. Together we will sing …
“You are worthy, our Lord and God,
to receive glory and honor and power,
for you created all things,
and by your will they were created
and have their being.” Revelation 4:11
Until then, my dear friend … when the pain you’re going through feels more than you can bear and your heart is crying out, “Make it stop”, just know that one day it will all make sense and you’ll stand in awe as you hear the orchestra of worship. Perhaps you’ll be whispering, “It was a song…”
“Dear Loving, Heavenly Father, You see me on the days when my heart is crying out, ‘Make it stop.’ Thank You for your promise that you’ll carry me. Thank You for being faithful when all else seems to fail. And Lord … remind me often that You’re writing a song that I’m unworthy to be a part of … a song that will lift You up … because You are worthy. In Your priceless Name … Amen.”