Duet

Sweet Pea is learning to play the piano. Her little fingers poise over the keys in perfect position. Straight is her back as she sits with legs propped upon her small footstool. Having learned the 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 fingering, Sweet Pea now has advanced to the treasure trove of reading music! What excitement!

         A dear friend is her teacher. A lover of God and music, Sweet Pea’s teacher carefully selected music books which feature simple praise choruses. What a delight to hear our little girl poke out notes to precious praise songs of old!
     “Praise the Name of Jesus!” her little voice sings along as her fingers press the keys, “You’re my Rock! You’re My Fortress! You’re My Deliverer. In You, I will trust!” 

     Her next music conquest excited her even more. It was a song she had known since a babe. To play its simple notes infused her with joy.

     “Lord, You are more precious than silver. Lord, You are more costly than gold…” Oh, to hear these cherished tunes fill our home has been precious indeed.

     A new praise song was assigned this past week. Once more, the music transported me back to my youth. Her fingers clunked slow, learning a new melody. But though unfamiliar to her, bit was beloved to me.

     “Jesus, Name above all Names…Beautiful Savior, glorious Lord! Emmanuel, God is With us. Blessed Redeemer…Living Word.” Over and over her fingers struggled to find the right keys. Her lips silently counted out the notes, correcting rhythms. Yet in my own head, the old song floated and spun.

     As Sweet Pea grew more confident, her little voice tried inserting the words to the melody. I smiled, hearing her rendition of mismatched rhythms with lyrics.

     “Here, let me sing it,” I offered. But Sweet Pea was not ready yet. Mastery over the notes had not settled into her bones. But today, something special happened.

      A day where my heart lay heavy, I reached for my guitar. For me, the physical act of organic worship breaks the wall of oppression. So it is no surprise that after choosing to wage war in several Enemy strongholds, pushback visited with force.

    But God was gracious. He had ministered to me in small yet powerful dosages spread over the span of a few days. It came first through community with beloved brethren, next with reminders of God’s faithfulness, and then in Bible study. Although lightening the oppression, it did not fully eradicate the hovering darkness. So out to God I cried and to the guitar I fled. To raw and organic worship I turned.

     Song after song I played. Fingers shifted, hands contorted, and wrist strummed. Louder and stronger my voice lifted interweaving harmony into melody, weaving an offering of the heart. Light glimmered and shone. The light pushed back, overcome, and conquered. My lungs breathed deep. My spirit rested. Then, an even greater gift. An offering of two rather than just one.

     “Mommy!” I forgot to practice!” burst out Sweet Pea. She ran for the piano and plunked herself down. So sudden was her outburst, my wrist hung mid strum and my voice halted mid-strain.

     “Okay,” I said, spirit refreshed and happy to relinquish. Typically, Sweet Pea warmed up with various musical exercises. But not this time. Surprised, I heard her press the notes to the worship song she was learning. Almost as if she too, wanted to join in the worship with her own little offering. The melody to “Jesus, Name Above All Names,” tickled the air. Her little fingers added their contribution. How precious this beloved, old song. How sweet the offering. Then, an idea popped in my brain.

     “Can I play with you?” I asked. Guitar in hand, I softly strummed a few chords. Sweet Pea eyes sparkled and shone. Her head bobbed with enthusiasm.

     “Here we go,” she chirped. This time, she sang as she played. With ears bent towards my guitar, my ears strained to listen. My fingers stumbled to find the correct chords. Together we fumbled over notes with rhythms awry. Our voices warbled.

     Though our attempts were at first clumsy, it did not dispel the utter joy which coursed through me. A radiant delight from the Father emanated within my spirit with peaceful glow. For it is not the notes or the noise which matters but the heart of the worshiper and the praise given in the offering. The pure joy of uniting in praise to our heavenly King in both instrument, heart, and voice stirred my soul to overflowing. The thrill of playing the right chord to the correct notes layered with lyrics of truth, ignited joy and new zeal.
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     The sweet offerings of a child given with wonder and delight to our heavenly Lord, opened the gates of praise. In Psalms, we are told the praises of infants and children open the glories of heaven and establish strength. And, here in my living room, the gates of heaven flung wide, pouring new strength into my veins. Over and over, we played. The simple melody took shape with its humble accompaniment. Piano notes rhythmically misaligned and non-tandem words created an imperfect offering of heart and soul. An offering of the heart. A duet of praise.