Dear Jesus

She played so beautifully. I watched intensely as her fingers raced across the piano. The beautfiful melodies she created caught my attention. I knew then that one day, maybe someday I could learn the piano and play that song just as well. I didn't want to be the next Beethoven, I just wanted the opportunity to play out those sweet melodies and songs in my head. It was a few months later that I found myself stroking the keys of our old keyboard at home. I didn't know how to play and I  still don't know much about piano, but at that point in my life I found much consolement in music as I had always done. I have never quite been the type to speak up what is on my mind, but it has always been much easier for me to speak louder than ever through writing and  particulary through writing songs. It took me awhile to realize that You sometimes spoke to me through my own lyrics. I remember my former pastor saying that when one shares a sermon the sermon is first for that person. The songs I write I then remember that I need to relay that message to myself first before anyone else.

At home we had an old keyboard. I played around with it, hitting the white keys one at a time trying to make a melodious sound. I searched for online piano tutorials that could help me to learn anything more about the piano. I was amazed how the young and old are blessed with such a gift of handling the piano.

I was trying to write a song for her. I found encouragement and strength through her and her response to the situation. It was just like Job. A man who lost everything his children, his possessions, everything and yet his response was Shall we accept good from the Lord and not bad. Job still praised God in his suffering.

She was dying and I am not sure if she knew it, maybe she did. When I  visited her in the critical unit it looked as if she lost alot of weight.She was not tall to begin with, but why did it look like she had shrunken? She was moaning at times in pain. For sure it was the affects of the chemotherapy. The music played in the background, Christian hymns. Her lips were a bit dry so I put some  vaseline on it for her. I read her psalm 23. Even in her pain she was thanking You Jesus.

A few days later I came to see her again, but they told me she was moved to another room. In the room I saw the nurse  and another lady. I saw her sleeping, "Oh she's sleeping I said" The nurse replied she is in a coma. I was scared Jesus. There came a time when I stood alone in the room with her. I spoke to her and promised to play her favorite song I would come back with the guitar and sing for her. I didn't know what to say. Her eyelids sometimes twitched as if she was fighting to get out and see the lights.

After so many hours she came out of the coma, I couldn't visit...I can't remember why, but I would go and see her soon maybe tomorrow. Tomorrow came and I got the phone call from her husband. She passed last night. Jesus to be absent from this body is to be present with You right? I never got to play her that last song.

It was cold , so cold in February. The morning of the funeral the church was packed, the pastors all walked in ushered by a woman with a loud voice reciting psalm 23. Her casket was at the front and overlooked the congregation. This funeral was different. It was as if my mind was more at peace knowing that she is with You, but difficult and like a dream, didn't hit that she was really no longer here.

He stayed strong all the way until the casket began to move further down in the grave. He shook his head and cried "no no". The hardest part for me is to see the casket be lowered in the ground. I thank you Jesus that you give us a hope, a hope that is real. I often wonder how I could begin to comprehend death without you in the equation. I think I would be so hopeless and unconsolable. How would I get through the next day? Because of you I have tears yes but I am comforted with your peace and hope. I wonder what she is doing right now in your presence?

I sat one day and thought about just how difficult life is. No one has it all perfect. My biggest misconception  when I was younger was thinking that money could solve everything, position and power could satisfy me. I came to understand that this was a big misconception. "We are shooting the school scene, I need you to walk this way" I was filming another television show as an extra. I was so excited and I even bought some accessories to wear on set. After spending most of the day doing re runs and observing the camera men, the scenes, the actors and the setting...an old run down factory it occured to me this is so fake.

I mean I knew it was fake, but being on set the first time I didn't realize just how a few props and camera men could turn a small factory into a television show that looked so real. The actors are human just like me and you, and so I am sure they have their own set of problems to balance, not to forget the wanted and unwanted attention that accompanies fame. How do they manage? Taking the fake scenes and making it look real as they play different roles, then transitioning back into their own lives with the whole world watching expecting them to be like the fake characters that they portray in the movies, dramas, television shows, music videos.

Jesus it must be difficult! More difficult than I can imagine. I thought to myself what if I could have anything in the whole world. What if I had the money to buy anything in this world. Then I would buy it all. Yes, all. Everything. All the latest fashion clothes included. Another thought came...What if I did just that and I had the latest of everything. There is nothing more to get. I have it all. I have done it all. Recieved the accolades that I worked so hard to gain. What next? I just reach the top and stay stagnant...No. There has to be more, otherwise there wouldn't be anything to live for...The rich can no longer live for all the riches when they have it all. Jesus there has too be more to life? This is when I gave up the thinking of riches will solve all my problems. I started to think more after a sermon I heard. The pastor said something that really opened my eyes :"You are not ready to live until you are ready to die"

The pastor was right. If I woke up each morning thinking that I am on my death bed today, the truth of what really matters would come out. I bet my bank account would be the last thing I worry about. I would think about my life the years God gave me and how I invested them; relationships where I needed to forgive, especially since You forgave me, I would think about judgement. I want no tears or regrets.
If I wake up every morning with this mentality then life will be so much more fulfilling, knowing that I have a clear direction and purpose to please You Jesus. If I wake up every morning on my death bed then I am ready to live.

The next day was Sunday. We had buried her body in the same cemetry where just a few weeks earlier we had buried another brother in Christ. That Sunday her husband didn't show up for church, he needed to rest, emotionally drained I believe. That Sunday father took over and lead the service. We dedicated it to her. I remember her sharing a testimony of how she saw me once playing her favorite song. She was feeling bad, but then when she heard it she felt better. That Sunday I played the guitar as best as I could. I wanted heaven to hear it. I played as best as I could. I played her the last song.


To be continued-
"One thing I have desired of the Lord,

That will I seek:

That I may fdwell in the house of the Lord

All the days of my life,

To behold the 2beauty of the Lord,

And to inquire in His temple."

(Psalm 27:4)