Piano

Half of my childhood was spent practicing the piano. "Imagine you're in a meadow", said my teacher. It was for a part in the song that was meant to be idyllic and soft; a moment that would replicate an imaginary wandering through a meadow. The song would descend and move toward angrier notes. "Imagine you're angry.. at something.. at someone...", he'd say. The notes crescendoed and waited in anticipation for the emotions to surge through. What was I angry about? Anger conjured up as I thought of last night when dad fought with mom. I marked off on my calendar each day they fought. Last night was the 20th time this month. "Okay, descend.. descend...let the notes fall in gentle willowy whispers". The anger transformed into a strong, gentle longing for peace.

"Stop playing! It's awful!", my brother would cry. I'd yell back, "5 more minutes!!!". The imaginary meadow, angry memories and quiet longings for peace slowly began drawing back into the recesses of my mind.

amen.

“Beware of your ceaseless striving after a righteousness so great that you no longer appear as a sinner in your own eyes and do not want to be a sinner. For Christ dwells only in sinners.” Martin Luther

after all our hands have wrought, He forgives.

sin is intensifying around me and over me. in the midst of this battle, i hear Christ saying, he's won.. he's won..he's won. there is no longer anything impossible for him.

he's redeemed me from the miry clay. from the affairs. from foolish threats of divorce. from petty friendships with the world. cheap tastes of freedom.

he still beckons me to come. his plans are better. he plans to have me as his own.

God, i pray that I'd be yours alone.