Lessons from a guitar string

Music is made in stress.  A string pulled tight, it has to be plucked, it has to be stressed.  Moved from its comfortable, resting position.  The bending of the string induces stress.  As the string bends, as the sting arches in stress and then releases it vibrates - and there is the offering.  This one note, high and long.  Stressed and empty and stretched right out, this is the space of song

In stress there can be song.  The resonance is in the surrender.  (A Voskamp)

Reading these words, I am reminded of a time long ago.  I was part of the music team at a women’s retreat, a position of comfort as I could “hide” behind my guitar.  On this retreat however, I had also been asked to give a talk.  In preparation several of the team would meet in the chapel before each talk to pray with the presenter.  As we gathered to pray for me, I pretty much feel apart – fear and nerves took over, I didn’t think I could go on. 

One person began to pray and as they did they prayed a pray very much like the words above. To produce the music from the guitar, there must be tension and that the musician knows just how taught the string needs to be to produce the right sound, the right note.  That I was like that string and God, my Father was the great musician and knew just how much tension was needed to make a beautiful sound.  His grace would be sufficient, that I could rest in His hands.

Well, I did the talk and I’m grateful to report that it went just fine.  I learned a valuable lesson that day, that in those times of stress, we can trust Him to produce in us a beautiful song.  He knows what He’s doing, all we need do is surrender into His most capable and loving hands . . and let the song be played.

Complete in Him

Abba, reading this morning and remembering, holding Joshua in my arms, his golden curls surrounding his sweet face, sleeping, breathing warmth upon me, the peace, the joy, the contentment.  Wanting that moment to never end.

Now he’s a young man, with a wife and a life separate from mine. . . and I miss him.  I am so grateful for the young man he has become, so grateful -  but there is an ache in my heart for the little boy who held my hand and filled my days with wonder.

But this is as it should be – for him and for me.  The love is still there, different perhaps, but very much present in our relationship.  And I am grateful.

Your love is a perfect love that knows no end, a love that never changes, always present.  Yours is the very breath I breathe and the rhythm of my heart beat, the hand that holds me, the voice that comforts me and the life that fills each moment    . . . and I am so very grateful to be Your child.