Sunday, October 18, 2015

Numbering our Days Aright

I washed the sheets from the week at my folks, ran and unloaded the dishwasher, put out the garbage, and turned down the thermostat. The house is empty for now, as my folks live in an independent apartment in an Assisted Living Manor. I was all packed and ready to leave for North Carolina, when I glanced at the organ in the living room.

It's rolltop concealed the keys. It hadn't been played by anyone in decades. I hadn't played it in at least thirty years. I was a self-taught organist. Never very good. But I loved to sit at the organ, and (badly) play the old songs I loved from musicals. If anything, I sang less skillfully than I played, but I always loved it. I would bring myself to tears, though not for the reasons others might be brought to tears by my playing and singing.

Playing the organ and singing the old songs transported me to some emotional reservoir I could not always tap otherwise. So, I passed the old organ, paused, and put down my suitcase. I rolled back the cover, sat down, and turned it on. I feared mice had chewed the wires, but the on light lit up instantly. It took me several minutes to figure out how to set the stops so that sound emerged. And then, I felt it was important I record this moment.

I played that song several times. It is one of my favorites. Then I wrote my dad a quick note, sending him the video. "Don't sell the organ. I want it."

I don't quite know how I will get it home, but I will figure out a way. I heard a sermon about someone who counted cancer a blessing because it prompted her to do things she had never done, but had always wanted to. Cancer made her live life with intention and purpose, knowing she had limited time to do so. She learned to play a new instrument.

I had always wanted to take organ lessons, or at least teach myself more than the six basic chords. So I want to bring the organ home, and do so. After all, we all have limited time to do the things we have always wanted to do. God didn't give us the miracle of life to squander it with regrets and unfulfilled dreams. He wants us to live fully alive with all He has provided.

I closed the old organ top, and patted it fondly.
"Goodbye, old friend. I'll be back."

John 10:10 

The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.

So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.

Do not boast about tomorrow, for you do not know what a day may bring.

And Jesus said to him, “‘If you can’! All things are possible for one who believes.”

For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.

For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.

1 comment:

  1. A www! Very evocative of days of yore! Dad will b so happy you have the organ! €>