Sunday, January 6, 2008

I know with a certainty that I am still in denial. When I glanced back over my journal entries from the last two days I noticed I’d written “December” and “2007” at the top. Having fixed that error, we’ll see if the truth has truly sunk in yet.

We met again without the S Family this morning, but Dathan was here, which added balance to the teaching. Papa took us on a journey through the epistle to the Galatians, sharing how we, as Christians, should not seek to be enslaved again to the Law of Moses. My pulse pounded through my brain during the entire meeting, shattering every logical thought that tried to enter, and shivering down through the rest of my body as well. It persisted on through lunch and an amazing afternoon of Frisbee and running with the addition of Zach and Josh. Warmth and sunshine continued through today, and we all turned outside in t-shirts and sports pants or shorts for some athletic activities. My throwing proved lame: wobbly, off target and just plain weak. Coaches Zach and Josiah pulled me off to work on it and finally demanded if my throwing was normally this bad. “Not quite,” I admitted. “What’s going on?” Zach asked, in typical Zach style. Slowly it came out that I hurt all over, my fingers felt a bit numb, my neck hurt a bit. “How do you sleep?” came the next question. I hesitated. On my back usually, but lately it’s been tucked up in a ball completely under the covers because my room is so cold. His diagnosis? A pinched nerve. True or not, I felt amazing by the time we all trooped in for supper—aside from the headache and a few minor aches. It never ceases to amaze me how intricate our bodies are—one tiny thing amiss and we are miserable. Somehow we survived millions of years of random change things amiss to emerge the most refined of all evolution.

Sitting down at the piano tonight, I knew my desire to play from a hymnal was zip. Dutifully, I clamored through two before giving up and giving over to the song that whispered inside me, dancing at my fingertips, pleading to be played. Again, tonight, I played myself—or somehow the essence of who I am as I stand before my Maker—in awe of Him and His beauty. Probably, like so many others before it, the music will be gone in the morning, but tonight I played for my God. Instead of being the performer, I was simply applauding.

Lord, Thou gives us songs to sing
In praise to Thee, Eternal King.
When songs of praise come from our hearts
We’ve found the truest, perfect part.

How often we, in foolish pride
Attempt to capture, or to guide
And chain the melody because
We seek a rating for applause.

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