As many of you know, an accident in May left me with two fractured wrists which required surgery and months of physical therapy to regain the use of my hands. During that time, many things I had always done seemed like a distant dream.
One of the
most important people in this process was my hand therapist. I met this person
the day my casts were removed when my hands seemed unusable like floppy fish. The
therapist made the splints that would support my wrists and hands in the
recovery process. At that time, we found we were both connected to a university
student ministry and so, from there we continued to form a bond. I found this
person to be compassionate, caring, and knowledgeable. The therapist had a
close friend who was in an accident that also left the friend with two broken
wrists, so the therapists’ knowledge was not just textbook but from life experience
as well.
Little by
little, I moved forward not always in a linear way, but it seemed a bit of a
zig zag pattern. Sometimes, it seemed I was even in a stall. Always, my
therapist supported and encouraged me and wouldn’t allow me to slip into
thinking I wouldn’t one day be able to use my hands in the same way I had
before the accident.
Finally, after
three and a half months and much progress, I came to my last session, and we parted
with tears on my part. I wondered if I would ever see them again.
So, what
does this have to do with the symphony?
During my
recovery, one of the things I kept in front of me was singing with the symphony
chorus at Christmas, which gives me such joy. The practices begin in late
October and that was one of the goals that kept me moving forward. Of course, I
don’t have to use my hands to sing, but I do need them in other ways to practice
my part on the piano, etc.
It was
such a joy after many practices to come to the dress rehearsal. While sitting
on the stage that evening, I scanned the musicians and singers. It’s such a
large group, I mostly just know the people seated around me. My eyes fell on a figure
that seemed familiar. No, it couldn’t be. Wow, that person could have been a doppelganger
for my therapist. I scanned the list of participants in my program. And there was
the name of my therapist right on stage with me.
That person
had been with me at my lowest and most difficult time this year and here they
were at one of the highest points. In fact, we had been on stage together in
previous years before we knew each other. I’m being vague about the name here to
protect privacy, but in that picture posted above probably during the Hallelujah Chorus since the audience is standing, that person is somewhere in
the group.
God knew
we would wind up in the same place at Christmas. He knew it would be a reminder
of His faithfulness and watchfulness not only in my life, but in my therapist’s
life, as well. My presence there reminded that person of the value of their
work. As part of the beautiful music God is writing, together, we were able to make
the notes sing on the Hallelujah Chorus, “. . . for the Lord God omnipotent
reigneth, Hallelujah!” In the low points, in the high points and everything in
between, God is still on the throne.
As Pastor
David Jeremiah reminded me recently, the Christian faith is one of music and
song. There are six songs just in the Christmas story. And this music fills our
hearts with worship. This Christmas especially, my heart overflows with all
that God has done and is still doing. And I say this, despite ongoing challenges
and mountains that have not moved in several arenas.
Still, together let’s all join together in the song that Mary sung, “My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior . . . for the Mighty One has done great things for me—holy is his name” (Luke 1:46, 49).