To be a child

dead.

Not physically of course, according to any medically concerned person I would still be living. So what’s the deal? you ask.

Well, I feel dead. Spiritually, mentally, emotionally. All the -ally’s but mostly spiritually. I’ve been living in a dark hole for awhile. No, I’m not depressed. I still get up every morning, eat breakfast and attended to my daily duties. I haven’t been feeling suicidal or unable to function physically, that is. I have been noticing a lack of motivation however and I’m not quite sure where to begin as far as tackling this feeling...

I’m listening to Samuel Barber’s “Adagio for Strings”. I think it might be one of my favorite classical pieces ever. Hearing this piece brings one vivid memory in particular; my high school orchestra experience. I remember playing this as a second violin in the second chair next to Joy Nugent. I felt so proud to be the second chair of the second violin section (not that I really earned it, I never practiced) and tried my best to be a good section leader. I remember sitting in my chair, in my blue and khaki uniform, tapping my foot and counting silently in my head. I was wishing that I could be anywhere else. So I let the music carry me away wherever it wanted.

I was a daydreamer.

A church hazily came into view, people inside wearing dark colored clothing while someone up front seemed to be talking about a young girl. My funeral? It seemed like it, there was a picture of my face on the coffin. Morbid, I know but it happened. The daydream didn’t end there. The music carried me someplace else. This time I was standing with millions of others, outside it seemed with chaos surrounding me but I wasn’t concerned. I was focusing my gaze on something or rather, Someone else. Our eyes met, and He smiled and reached out a hand to me. I grabbed it immediately, my eyes never leaving His. Then it happened. There is a part of this piece, the last two minutes of the song, where the notes brighten almost celestially as if there is an ascension taking place.

I remember closing my eyes tightly during this part to keep the tears from flowing down my face. I was thinking, “ I just want to go home. Please, I just want to go home with You,” as my bow strokes got stronger, longer and faster, my heart rate picked up speed. Instantly I felt as if I was being lifted out of my chair soaring closer, and closer to my Maker. Higher and higher the notes got. The melody and harmonies intertwined. Closer and closer I could see in the distance what He had been preparing all this time. Finally all would be well. Finally I could be with Him.

I opened my eyes, wetness and blurriness hindered my sight for a bit. I couldn’t reach up to wipe it away because the aria wasn’t over. The pause only allowed for me to start breathing again, I hadn’t even realized that I had been holding my breath. I had been clutching onto my bow for dear life, as if His hand had truly been in mine.
I tried as much as I could to compose myself to finish the remainder of Samuel’s masterpiece. I had just gotten a glimpse, as far as my imagination could take me, of meeting my Creator.
The song ended, and the bell rang proclaiming that the class period was over. My peers jumped out of their seats hastily putting away violins, violas and cello’s. I couldn’t move. I sat in my seat trying to re-live that moment in my mind.

What will it take to believe like a child again? At the tender age of 16, on that day, I was ready to go Home.
Today, older and hopefully a little bit wiser, unfortunately that same zeal isn’t there. I’ve seem to have lost it somehow. This time, it’s not tears of realization and joy that have temporarily blocked my sight. Life’s realities, pressures, and daily responsibilities have clouded my vision. I've made a decision today and I hope it lasts. I’m not going to let it get me down. I’m going to fight it. I’m going to let Him fight it. We’re going to fight it.


I want to believe like a child again. It’s the only way.

“He called a little child and had him stand among them. And he said: ‘ I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.’

- Matthew 18: 2-4




P.S- If you've got 5 min to spare I recommend listening to this song. Maybe then you'll be able to understand what I felt.
Don't mind the cheesy text.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1dPDO3Tfab0