In the impatience of youth, I sat at the piano to play for my Grandpa Suderman. I played with my usual exuberance with a myriad of rubato. (speeding up and slowing down). Then I felt Grandpa’s hand on my shoulder, beating the rhythm – evenly – no rubato here. I wanted to play it the way I felt – I fought against a steady rhythm.
Each morning during this season called summer, I have enjoyed walking – the blessed rhythm of my feet. I look for God’s surprises and joys of the season. The rose bush we planted last year began blooming luxurious blossoms. Then one day I noted an onslaught of Japanese Beetles that slowly tried to dismantle the rose bush, leaf by leaf and blossom by blossom. I mourned the destruction I saw. After spraying the rose bush with its decimated leaves, to my surprise, new leaf growth began, leaving the destruction behind.
I rejoiced to see the rose buds begin to appear after two months of near death. How like life this is. The promise of beauty was cut short by a destructive force. After a season, it picked up its life rhythm to again bring forth its beauty.
As the new season of fall flirts with frost, I count 6 buds and three roses in bloom. Again I rejoice.
Life is filled with seasons and their rhythms…created by God. Recently a young man of 7 asked, “Where did God come from? We were born, was He born?” My answer? “In the beginning, God…. ” He began the rhythm and the seasons… And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. God saw that the light was good, and He separated the light from the darkness. God called the light “day,” and the darkness he called “night.” And there was evening, and there was morning—the first day. Genesis 1:3-5.
There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven. Ecclesiastes 3:1
A time for joy, a time for sorrow, a time for thought for tomorrow. A time for serving, a time for giving, a time for prayerful living. A time to be Jesus, a time for love, a time to give of our hearts. A time for prayer and a time for praise. And again we speak of a rhythm of life. We recognize that seasons change even as our hearts grow in Him.
Learning to walk for a toddler is such a glorious thing…to observe. Even as we learn to walk with Jesus – falling more than walking, we finally hit the stride, the purity and simplicity of walking with Him in rhythm. We may fall, but getting up to go again is the key to getting into the cadence of righteous living.
Just the moment we think we have the rhythm down, there is a discord, a dissonance in our life. This is a moment when we realize it is time to pray erase the dischord and measure our steps for a new season with our Lord.
Just as the quietness rests the soul after the last beat of a song, so we need to refresh ourselves in the Lord.
Just as the rose renews itself under a blanket of snow, we renew ourselves under a blanket of prayer and hope.
Just as an orchestra is held together with the rhythm of the timpani – so is God’s power in our creation and in our lives.
Bruce Barton wrote –.
Action and reaction, ebb and flow, trial and error, change – this is the rhythm of living. Out of our over-confidence, fear; out of our fear, clearer vision, fresh hope. And out of hope, progress.
He is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. Whatever he does prospers. Psalm 1:3
Now I understand. After years of chaffing against a steady rhythm, I am content with a steady beat, and the change of seasons. The rhythm of my life is slowing…and I often feel Grandpa’s hand on my arm, and his rhythm and vibrating beat echoes throughout my life.
Comments? eacombs@eacombs@cox.net
