Tempo

As I have written about in previous posts, I've been learning how to play the violin.  Last Tuesday when I met with my instructor, I was excited to show him the music I had ordered through the mail, of which I was practicing since our last lesson.  Two of the songs, "Danny Boy" & "An Irish Lullaby", my Dad had sang and whistled through the years.  It was a delight to play them now...though I would have love to see his expressions.

So when my teacher and I played through them once...I was happy that I was doing well to keep up....he was following my lead...instead of me struggling to follow his.

Yet, when we were finished, after he complimented me on doing well practicing...he asked me to listen to him play. 

Full of myself, I tuned my ears only to hear him play much slower and with much vibratto.  I began to melt, for this is how I remember my Dad singing it, whistling it.  When he finished, my confession was that while I practiced at home, I felt like I was a wind up music box going for the next round....very mechanical.  But now I would slow down.  My instructor chuckled.  I love music boxes....but I want the music to flow...not wind down.

In the same way, There are so many times I rush through my day, "Playing" the music my Father has for me.  But I wonder if it's like the violin music; would my lifesong God gave me be sweeter, if I slowed down?