DISCORDANT CHORDS

Not too many days ago, I started checking out friends' blog pages again after a long reprieve considering how net surfing for me is given more precedence than breakfast. In doing so, it necessitates that I go into my own page beforehand for the obvious reason that all the links are there. Then I noticed how old, bored, and pitiful my last entry was; like a vagabond in someone else's family reunion--so out of place, trying hard, strange and different. I scrolled down and saw that every other title before it were of the same kind: words that were from another person's thoughts, originally typed in by fingers that aren't mine.

For the last two months after my surgery, my life's music has somewhat become a series of discordant melody that no world-class conductor would even attempt to orchestrate into something beautiful. The notes were all garbled up and confused that no Beethoven would try to array them into a playable piece. Yet in spite of the unsymphonic orchestra that my life has become, the beautiful lyrics written by the Almighty remained the same.

Six days ago, I was able to be on my own feet again, literally. There had been no fun in being mostly in bed for two months that went on and on like forever. Wanting to do a lot, and having the mind to do it but not the physical strength to dive into it has driven me crazy one too many times that someone had to restrain me. But now that I'm up and about, all of those were like a part of somebody else's life, as if I was just a spectator; the events having nothing to do with me.  Of course, that's just  me and my too readily-excitable mind. I can hear of something to do or a place to go and get really excited about doing it without showing any indication that I am in the least bit interested.  Beat that! :-)

Looking back, I've been blessed with the good sense to recognize that I have needed the weakness and disability of the body to give rest to my soul and spirit... so that my life's scent might exude a thicker, more concentrated aroma of fragrance; to realize that no matter how tough and multifariously complex life could become in the midst of illness, God’s hand is still there orchestrating all the instruments that would play a part in this symphony, so that this life and the ministry He has blessed me with might turn into a progressive, more purposeful, well-designed and efficient channel of service.

Glory to the Father who has given me another year to continue (or even maybe to start afresh) in my life in Him.