| The Every Day of Life |
Chapter 7 |
Page 5 |
Our lives are harps of God, but many of them do not give out their sweetest music in calm of quiet, prosperous days. It is only in the heavy storms of trial, in adversity, in sore pain or loss that the richest, noblest music comes from our souls. Most of us have to learn our best and truest lessons in the stress of trial. In few homes is the music of the glad, tearless, days so deep and rich as it is after grief has come. The household song is sweetest when the voices choke with sobbing.
We should seek to have our life so trained, and so disciplined, that no sudden change of circumstances shall ever stop its music; that if we are carried suddenly out of our summer of joy to-day into winter of grief to-morrow, the song shall still go on unbroken, the song of faith, love, peace. Paul had learned this when he could say, “I have learned, in whatsoever state. I am, therein to be content. I know how to be abased, and I know also how to abound.” Circumstances did not affect him, for the source of his peace and joy was in Christ.
How can we get these lessons? There is an old legend of an instrument that hung silent upon a castle wall. Its strings were broken. It was covered with dust. No one understood it and no one could put it in order. But one day a stranger came to the castle. He saw the instrument on the wall. Taking it down, he quickly brushed the webs and dusts from it, tenderly reset the broken strings, then played upon it.
“Then chords long silent woke beneath his touch,
And hearts and voices round were strangely stilled
As deeper rolled the harmony and grand,
Till all the castle with the notes was filled;
It pealed the war-notes ‘mid the conflict’s din,
Then sank into a solemn requiem.
Beneath the fingers of the master hand
Gladly it echoed youth’s ambitious dream;
Then, gently, like the ripples on the shore,
Whispered sweet confidence in love supreme.
Changeful the theme as waves upon the sea,
From low-breathed hope to psalms of victory.”
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