|Where I go to hear the music|
My frantic life has screeched to a halt this past week.
It began with a hurried, worried, late night drive to the ER with Spouse in severe abdominal pain and ended … Well, it hasn’t ended yet.
But it hasn’t been all bad.
During countless tests, then surgery, then waiting for the MD to arrive, a gigantic railroad track scar, and now recovery, I’ve been forced to set aside busy life as I know it and sit. Just sit.
Sit and read. Sit and listen. Sit and reflect.
And that’s been good for me. Because I can hear the music again.
“What music?” you must be wondering.
It’s the same music I heard up on a trail just a few weeks ago above our Smoky Mt. cabin. I was walking along the secluded woodsy path (I love it in the spring on our mountain because none of the other Florida transients are up there yet so it’s just us, the birds, and the bears) when I felt the need to stop and rest a bit. So I parked my tush on a boulder to catch my breath.
That’s when I heard the music.
It was gentle and humble and unpretentious – pretty hard to tune into at first. But the longer I sat there, the melody grew and filled my insides with its glory. The buzz of bees, the trickle of a hidden waterfall, the rumble of distant thunder, tree branches rustling in the breeze, the epitome of sweetness in life all combined to create music for my soul.
It was truly beautiful and so very satisfying. Peace. It sounded like peace.
And then it occurred to me. If you walk by too fast, you’ll miss the music.
So I vowed to not walk so fast all the time. To slow down and listen. But as soon as we returned home, I hit the road running and it took an emergency room run to put on the breaks. To stop. And hear the beautiful music of Papa God playing in my soul.
So I urge you, friend, to do what I didn’t on my own initiative. Take a few moments this week to stop, sit down, and catch your breath. And listen for Papa’s gentle melody in your heart.