Being sick is no fun. Sure, we’ve all had our days where life just gets so overwhelming that we wish we could have a sick day or two simply so we can skirt our responsibilities, goof off, and sleep away the day. But when we’re actually lying there with our body aching and head groggy all we wish for is to feel better.
The last few months have been sick day after sick day for me. No energy to do much more than lie around watching extremely enriching television shows and movies (because tv couldn’t possibly be anything but enriching) and sleep. Lots and lots of sleep. My dream life tends to be far more exciting than my awake life as I regularly find myself back in Zambia on grand adventures only to wake up and be back home with my head feeling like it is going to explode.
Every once in a while I’ll have a day or two where I’m feeling pretty good and have a glimmer of hope which allows me to day dream about returning to Zambia soon, but most days I can’t allow myself to have that hope or to miss my friends and life there because it just gets depressing.
Trying to pray through the confusion of the big question of “WHY?!” has this mission in Zambia been put on ‘hold’, especially after God has been so faithful over the last year and a half in preparing me for this journey. Why. Why. Why. Haven’t I already learned the lesson of ‘trust’? I’ve trusted You to take me halfway around the world, now I have to learn to trust that somehow in the midst of this miserable illness that You’re gonna work out something good? Please, please hurry and make this part of the story go faster. I’m tired of being sick, tired of being tired, and tired of not doing anything with my life. Please hurry up so I can get on with living.
The following devotional was given to me by my mom and spoke directly to my heart due to my current situation and past musical experience. Hopefully it will speak to you too.
“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 believe 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, and we lament that our voices must be silent. 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 dos 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 making of the music. The process is often slow and painful in this life, yet how patiently God works to teach us! And how long He waits for us to learn the lesson!- John Ruskin”
The point of this passage speaks for itself very clearly. I know many people right now who are in a time of “forced leisure” similar to mine who need to hear this encouraging message just as much as me.
In my years of instrumental musicianship I had to learn the hard lesson of counting the rests. My private lesson teacher could ALWAYS tell when I had been practicing a piece of music at home without counting the rests. You just can’t get away with rushing the rests. The rhythm gets off and then the story of the composition is changed. Some of my favorite flute solos to perform were without piano accompaniment. The most beautiful part of those songs was not the musical phrases, but the silence in between the phrases where the previous melody bounces off the rafters and deep into the heart of the audience whose breathing stops in anticipation for the next musical lyric to continue the melodious story. The composer has perfectly orchestrated these rests to tell the story the way his or her heart has been inspired to.
We’ve all been in the audience of an orchestral concert where the piece of music has a trick ending of a long silence followed by a surprise repeat of the melody or a quiet resolution. And then there is that awkward moment where the non-musicians in the audience start clapping when the piece is obviously not over. How do we know the piece isn’t over yet? Because the conductor is still conducting. His baton is at attention and all eyes of the orchestra are awaiting his instruction to join in at just the right moment to finish the piece.
Keep your eyes on the Conductor. This song is not over. He wrote the song. He wrote the rests. And the rest is beautiful. Don’t rush it. It is there for a reason and it truly is beautiful.
