On Another Note

My piano looks nothing like this very shiny looking one above. But I love my piano. It has history...a story all of its own. I'm sure it could tell a few stories, if the keys could really talk. Once upon a time it belonged to my Grandmother. It ended up being in the Sunday School hall in the church I grew up in, and when the church decided to do some renovating the piano became obsolete. It came to me. A blessing for being the only pianist in the family.

It is battered and bruised. It is missing a panel in the top and there is a chipboard panel in the bottom. The hammers are all quite indented. It is dusty and we found all manner of puzzling items inside it when we had it tuned the first time. Of course, my own children have added to the items of interest over the years. Less so now than when they were toddlers. It isn't pretty to look at. But it has a great deal of character! And it is mine.

My birthday present this year from Dh was to have my piano tuned. Fifteen years and four moves have left it sounding a little 'blue'. This afternoon the brother of a family at school came and fiddled about with it for a good hour and a half. Ahh...the moment he was finished and he sounded the first chord. It was true and clear, just like it should've been all along.

I'm sure there's many a parallel between the tweaking and careful ear it takes to get a piano to be perfectly in tune and the tweaking and careful ear it requires to keep in step with the One who keeps my life in tune.