A few months ago I tried to get my piano tuned. Ok, it's not 'my' piano, but it still deserved better.
My tuner stood me up.
I tried the next week - even took off work - and he cancelled.
And now, this week I tried to get it tuned before I left, so it would sound good for whoever begins playing behind me.
And he cancelled again.
I seriously need a new piano tuner.
There is something about a piano out of tune that hurts. Yeah, I know it's stupid. But for just a few weeks each year, I get to experience what it sounds like perfected. And it's wonderful.
And then, slowly the tones dull, or sharpen, they no longer blend as well as you know they could.
It's not bad. It still sounds like a piano. But it's far less than the music you know it could make.
Maybe if you play a guitar, or violin, any stringed instrument that you're constantly tuning - you know what I'm talking about.
Listening to it, you just feel a little dissatisfied.
It was a gift. A gift it looks like I won't be able to give.
I had hoped that when whichever one of them sat down to play, that they'd notice it wasn't the same sound they were used to hearing. The keys don't even feel like they move the same way after a good tune. It makes you feel like you're a better musician than you really are. But the music... does something to you.
At least it does something to me.
And I had hoped they would find in themselves a love for music, a love for the piano, that made them a better player. Not necessarily because they physically play better, but because they play absolutely loving the music.
What are the odds? God, could you please raise up a musician for them that has Your melody in their heart so vibrantly that they cannot help but play. Whatever the instrument, whatever their talent, whatever their worry about not being good enough. Let that need to play the melody be so strong they can't help but play.
It seems foolish even to my own ears, or in this blogs case "my own eyes" to see music as so important. And maybe it's one of those things that each person thinks about their own passions. Preachers probably think preaching is most important. The church secretary probably thinks the money is important. Musicians think music is important.
But I hope this church learns to love music. To love the song. To love the worship of singing so much that it makes them weak in the knees and they can't explain why.
I hope they find themselves worshipping in the car, in the grocery store, in the 29 second walk from building to car each day. I hope they begin to listen to the words of the songs and realize what a story they tell. I pray they never "just sing" a single solitary song for the rest of their lives.
I hope they find rapture, pure and utter rapture in their 20 minutes of singing each service. So much so that the service runs late because no one wants to stop. I pray they find themselves singing their own songs over the melody - thanking their Savior personally because the words can't be held back - rather than forever worshipping with other peoples words.
I pray that their worship begins to change the entire church family. As one watches the other worship and they enter in, a third watches on and chooses to enter in as well, and so on until people driving by are simply compelled to step in to see what's going on.
And when they come in, yes they'll find teaching available, but more than anything they'll find people worshipping God.
I'm tellin' you, musicians think music is the be all and the end all.
If God could work this awesome miracle, then I'm sure He can do it even with the piano out of tune, or no musicians at all.