Waiting, music and early spring

Ok, so I know we promised to give you the cure for the winter shivers this week… but it seems so silly to post a frozen-weather topic when we’re enjoying extraordinarily warm weather currently. We have no need for cold-curing miracles, so we’re postponing that post for a more relevant time.

For today, a word on waiting through the difficult times of silence in life, courtesy of John Ruskin. I’m loving the way he compares life to a song.

—-Chelsea

There is no music during a musical rest, but the rest is part of the making of the music. In the melody of our life, the music is separated here and there by rests. 

During those rests, we foolishly think we have come to the end of the song. God sends us times of forced leisure by allowing sickness, disappointed plans, and frustrated efforts. He brings a sudden pause in the choral hymn of our lives. We grieve that our part is missing in the music that continually rises to the ear of our Creator. Yet how does a musician read the rest? He counts the break with unwavering precision and plays his next note with confidence, as if no pause were ever there. 

God does not write the music of our lives without a plan. Our part is to learn the tune and not be discouraged during the rests. They are not to be slurred over or omitted, nor used to destroy the melody or to change the key. If we will only look up, God Himself will count the time for us. With our eyes on Him, our next note will be full and clear. If we sorrowfully say to ourselves, “There is no music in a rest,” let us not forget that the rest is part of the beauty of the song.