As I lay in bed, trying to fall asleep, I was listening to classical music (something that those who know me, understand I do very infrequently). Classical has never really been my style, except when I was dancing ballet or playing piano. But on this particular solemn and gray night, I was listening to a beautiful track from the cinema The Painted Veil.
The forlorn crooning of the piano is beautiful and was supposed to put me to sleep. But instead it struck a chord in my soul, causing me to miss the silence of the outside world. Or rather, miss the more natural soundtrack that God had pre-prepared for me outside.
As the rain hits the glass on the window of our basement apartment I am reminded that the rain is entirely out of my control. My life is dictated not only by the weather, but also by the conditions in which I live. And it is in that moment, that my thoughts are drawn upward to more existential questions such as, "How much do I really acknowledge God?", "Do I love Him with all my heart as I ought to?", "What will heaven be like?", "And what will the music be like there?"
These musings of a mortal woman frustrate me to no end. I desperately want to understand the eternity. But every raindrop is a little note from God, reminding me that summers are always filled with deep thought and contemplation and usually contain at least one or two lessons from my Heavenly Father.
I wait expectantly for them to come, but until then, I will be grateful for my God-given soundtrack. Setting my mind on things above and not things of this earth and reminded of the following verses which tell me that I cannot be both friends with this earth and friends with the God of the universe.
And I go back to my thoughts, never an original one produced, and wonder if that just might not be the lesson I am to learn over the summer.
