My friend loves the symphony.
Honestly, I don’t get it. I’ve never been able to get into classical music.
But He invited me to go with him so he could share something he loves with me.
I sat, trying my best to feel the music, to catch the bug, to understand if it really is more than just combinations of notes and vibrations.
As I sat there, I remembered I told someone I’d pray for them. And when I tried to pray I realized I didn’t really believe in God either. Just like I’m skeptical of symphony.
So often I find myself sitting in my seat watching this thing called Christianity and wondering why all these people seem to get it except for me. I’ve never really known it was real in my heart. And Why does it seem like I’m still the same old selfish man that I have ever been. Sometimes it just doesn’t seem to be real in my life at all.
I just have never really known in my heart that all this is true. Not, at least, like my friend knows that Copland’s Appalachian Spring describes and captures his longing for a love he’s never had better than anything else ever has. Or how classical music was one of only two things that got him through the toughest era in his life last year. It is so real to him.
I was talking about this stuff with him after the symphony. How I struggle to see the reality in things like classical music and God and questioning why I don’t really see any fruit coming out of my life. I mean, I think I’m getting healthier but I’m not helping out at homeless shelters or anything.
He said, you are helping more than you know.
Strangely enough, he said the only thing that got him through that really tough era last year, other than classical music, was me. He said I was the only one that came over and hung out with him on his toughest days.
I remember those days: I was just happy to have a friend that was willing to be vulnerable with me and we could talk about what was really in our hearts.
So maybe there is some value behind the symphony that I just don’t see. And maybe there really is a God that is doing a work in my heart, even if I just don’t seem to be able to see it all the time.
And maybe I am not built to see as much as I am built to trust. So maybe that means my frail faith can ride on the faith of the people I trust who have eyes to see what I am not able to see.And I will keep listening to classical music, expecting it to touch my heart, and I’ll keep looking for signs of God, expecting one day to see him and to see him complete the work he’s doing in me.
Raw Spoon
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