Listening to the piano playing reminded me of when I played flute. There's always a lot of notes, but oftentimes the parts that are more important than the notes you played were the times you rested, and did not play anything. The rests, the silences were actually what made a song--it gives you rhythm. As an early beginner I struggled with the rests, I didn't get it. I just wanted to play my notes at all times. This led to me having rhythm issues for the greater part of my early flute playing years. But once I was preparing for my first big flute solo it all started to make sense. The first time I played with an accompanist I realized all the reasons for my rests. He was playing and filling in during the times I was resting. When my flute and his piano came together--the song was finally complete. In my moment of clarity there was reason for my resting, and reason for his resting. But of course, after that first rehearsal you have to go back and practice on your own again. And you still, of course, have to rest and stop. But this time you know why you are stopping and resting, you know why you don't play for six measures here and five measures there.
It made me think of this period in my walk where I'm in the desert. Walking, breathing, living dryness. Why? I don't understand. Until I came upon this one passage
"I will lead her into the desert and speak tenderly to her." -Hosea 2:14
It's like that moment when I first played my solo with the accompanist. It is starting to make more sense...my reason for resting, this waiting, this dryness, this desert. It is not without purpose, it is not to tease me or make me miserable. There is a purpose, Your hand is upon this.



