The Season Finale At Last!

I am yet to meet an 11 year-old boy who sees practicing violin anywhere near the top of his priority list.  Our son is not an exception. Most days, getting him to move on the routine is as agreeable as pulling teeth and as aesthetically pleasing as the proverbial nails-on-the-chalkboard.  It's a chore, but he does it, despite his mother's frequent threats that she wants to quit. Dysfunctional family dynamics or not, the music (or the screeching) goes on in our household and  for the past couple of years he has had a tremendous privilege of playing in the Metropolitan Area Youth Symphony (MAYS). 

Even on the best of days, distractions, pressures and frustrations are numerous, and to be honest, sometimes the music he is given contributes to the problem.  Playing in an orchestra, his artistic director hands him only his individual part.  He is not privy into what’s on the music sheets of other orchestra members.  This makes his daily practice quite a challenge. He has no idea how his part fits within the larger whole. One particular piece, for example, has a number of rests, some of them several measures long, when he does nothing but count, and then at just the right time, after extended silence, he finally gets to pick up the bow again. 

Today we had an exceptional opportunity to be at the dress rehearsal before the season finale concert scheduled for next Sunday.  All the different orchestras comprising MAYS (eleven groups in all) were in the same room, bursting with unbelievable talent and energy, silliness and immaturity. At one point during the rehearsal a couple of hundred students were all together, their eyes glued on the director as they gave their best.

It was electric.

Each child was playing his or her own part, as they've practiced it all along, but they could finally see and hear how it all fit together. They looked at each other, thoroughly amazed. 

Wow! We didn’t realize we could sound THIS good!

Their faces were beaming with pride and passion and pure joy.  At the end of the piece, the room exploded with spontaneous applause.

Many times in life I feel like my son. The discipline that is required to live a life in step with the Holy Spirit sometime feels more like a chore, like practicing  scales and my own little seemingly nonsensical, disjointed, insignificant part of a larger orchestra piece. I have no clue how it all fits together. I often get annoyed by my fellow-orchestra members for not sticking to the script, for not keeping an accurate timing, for passionless, mediocre, sloppy performance which makes us all have to run through the piece again and again. 

It’s hard to be faithful.  It’s hard to stay focused, day-in, day-out, keeping  my eye on the music and on the Orchestra Director, waiting for His timing, honoring the rests, sticking to the script, while playing my part with heart and passion.

But, I need  to remember that there is the season finale… and that day, when the curtain of this world is pulled aside, we will finally get to see and hear how it all fits together… and we will be truly amazed that He could make us look and sound that good.

And it will be said in that day,“Behold, this is our God for whom we have waited that He might save us. This is the Lord for whom we have waited; Let us rejoice and be glad in His salvation. Isaiah 25:9