I began taking piano lessons when I was about seven years old. It was one of those things everyone did, right? Of course, many people who are given music lessons don’t continue to play the instrument. Kind of like me when I tried to learn the coronet along with the piano. I had a borrowed instrument and a college student from church gave me lessons. I wanted to be in the high school band, and while the flute was prettier, I couldn’t get it to make a sound. I managed a few notes, even basic tunes on the coronet/trumpet but I didn’t love the instrument. I didn’t love the practicing. And my dreams of being in the band quickly faded.
The piano, on the other hand, was something I could stick with. My mom insisted I practice thirty minutes a day before I could go outside to play, and despite my protests, she stuck to her rule. I’m glad she did because ten years later, I had beginner students of my own, and teaching piano was more fun at that age than babysitting the neighborhood kids.
Looking back, you could say music is in my blood. I wrote poetry and music (not well) before I ever tried my hand at storytelling. I had a marginal singing voice and used to sing solos in the church I grew up in. Later, in other churches, I lost the desire to be part of the music scene, but the song in my heart never fades. Our kids added to the tradition by bringing in guitars, bass, and drums and their own bands to our home. Like I said, the music never fades.
And I think that’s why I refer to music so often in my books, and why in my current work-in-progress, one of Solomon’s wives simply grew into a woman who loved song. You can read her story in her words in The Shepherdess.
As I am sitting here going through the fourth draft of the compilation of Solomon’s loves, I ran across something Abishag (The Shepherdess) said to her rival wife, Naamah (The Desert Princess). She said, “I choose to find the music of Adonai wherever He has placed me,”
It may sound really strange that a writer would be touched by her own words, but as I read that, it didn’t feel like my writing. It felt as though God had used that one sentence to remind me that finding the music of Adonai is a choice. And it’s not always an easy choice to make.
If we’re honest, most of us would probably admit that we’ve lived through some pretty trying circumstances. This has been one of those years for us, but we’ve faced lots of trials in years past too. Next month will be the anniversary of my dad’s home going. Six years. And this year we lost a brother and sister-in-law. And the list could go on – and not just for me. You too?
Friends have lost several loved ones, been touched by serious illness, suffered unexpected tragedies, and so much more. Pain seems to slip in and steal the music of God every single day.
Unless I stop and look for the music in spite of the pain.
And that means more than just playing the songs on my iTunes playlist all day long, which I do, but actually listening and letting the words penetrate my heart. That’s when music turns into worship–when it reminds me of who God is and that He hasn’t forgotten my name, that He sees, that He’s holding me, that none of the evil that we see happening around us brings Him pleasure. He grieves too, probably much more than we realize.
And yet, He also offers us comfort and rest in His embrace. He sings over us because He loves us, and He loves it when we love Him in return. Creation sings, and there was a time when the morning stars sang together. Music is God’s creation! And so, like I imagined Abishag thinking, we too can choose to look for the music of Adonai in any circumstance in which He places us.
Just because the world feels like it is crashing in or falling apart doesn’t mean it is. Sometimes when things seem darkest is when God steps in and shines His brightest light so we can see what He sees. And we can hear the song again.
Someday we will dance to the music of Adonai, to the songs begun at creation, to the symphony of grace. In the meantime? I’m going to try to heed my own advice in Abishag’s imagined words and look for the music even when it seems absent. After all, God made me with a song in my heart and it just never fades as long as I don’t let it do so.
~Selah
