I am content. It is a cool rainy day in Richmond. The dust has settled on 2013 and 2014 is underway. My house is clean, assignments are reasonably caught up and I have time to sit quietly and reflect.
Yesterday, referring to team direction and purpose, a colleague called this a “time of pause.” I like that. I realize that’s where I am in this season of my life. Pausing. Reflecting. Waiting. Certainly, while I am waiting, I am also serving — my family, my church and my organization — and it’s all good! I’m not touching the edge of lostness or dealing with the “in your face” ugliness of oppression or exploitation, but God is still very near to me, sheltering me and allowing me this season of “pause.”
Tonight, my youngest daughter has her first beginning band concert. From days in middle and high school band, I remember that orchestral music often contains several measures when certain instruments do not play. In those measures, other instruments take up the music. This doesn’t mean that in measures of rest, the flutes, for example, are no longer part of the orchestra. But for that particular piece of music to be all its creator intended, the flutes must be silent for a time — a “pause.”
And that is where I am — enjoying my measures of rest, the pause of this season.
It would be inappropriate for a flautist to ask the conductor during a performance, “Hey! Hey! When do I get to play again?” For one thing, it’s in the music, and for another, the conductor will direct the flutes when they are to play again.
It is true that I don’t have a sheet of music in front of me, showing me when the measures of rest will end, and perhaps that’s where the orchestra analogy breaks down.
But I trust the Conductor. He will bring me back into the music as I keep my eyes on Him.