Party of Three

I often have this conversation with my students:  rests are difficult for us---because we want to fill them with sound.  It's part of our nature---we want to rush past them and get to the part where we get to make the music.  But here's the thing to remember---the silence is a part of the music.  Don't rush the silence---it isn't something apart from the music.  It is the music---it's just as important as the part of the music that is sound.  It builds anticipation---or it can turn a rhythm from symmetrical to asymmetrical---it can create syncopation.  Or it can just give a phrase which has arced and descended---space to breathe.  Where the silence is placed---how long the silence lasts---it's a part of the music.  It's part of what makes the music mean what it means.

I've been reading about God's promise to Abram this morning---God's promise that he would bless him with a large and prosperous family.  But Abram and Sarai become impatient, and take matters into their own hands.  And some fair amount of heartbreak follows.

I suppose the seasons of life that are the hardest for us to manage are the ones in between anticipation and its fulfillment--the ones where God seems silent.  This Bible story reminds me----don't rush past the silence---it isn't something apart---it's part of what makes our lives mean what they mean.

Blessings
Yesterday, as I was pulling out of the garage, I noticed that our old fence was crusted with ice crystals---the morning light caught them and they shimmered like something out of a fairy tale.  The fence is old, broken in places, and yet when the ice reflected back the light of the sun---it became beautiful.  Hope.  I, also, want to reflect back something beautiful.  There is nothing beautiful in me alone---I am broken.  But I still hope to catch the light---and then reflect it back out into the darkness.