The Chords that Bind
Yesterday SOS came an hour before I got off work to play his violin in the chapel.
I usually try to stay extra alert when he is there just in case there is someone who is not happy about the surround sound. But no sooner had I gotten back to my desk than the receptionist called and asked if I could talk to a lady who was crying.
So I took the call.
And with the sounds of magnificent hymns seeping into the arid hallways and walkways, I listened to the heart of a woman whose husband is dying. I made my way to the end of the conversation and hung up, once again becoming aware of my environment.
My cubicle mate commented "I am so amazed at your ability to concentrate. The two of us were..."
I interrupted, "Oh, no! Are you having trouble concentrating with the music?"
"No, no... the music is wonderful... it is just the romantic bonds we can see and feel between you up here and your fiance down in the chapel... it's hard to concentrate!"
The other gushed, "It's so romantic."
I had never thought to put the term romantic on two people ministering to souls: me by listening and him by causing people to stop and listen. But I suspect the fragrance of that hour will last far longer than even the potpourri.
I usually try to stay extra alert when he is there just in case there is someone who is not happy about the surround sound. But no sooner had I gotten back to my desk than the receptionist called and asked if I could talk to a lady who was crying.
So I took the call.
And with the sounds of magnificent hymns seeping into the arid hallways and walkways, I listened to the heart of a woman whose husband is dying. I made my way to the end of the conversation and hung up, once again becoming aware of my environment.
My cubicle mate commented "I am so amazed at your ability to concentrate. The two of us were..."
I interrupted, "Oh, no! Are you having trouble concentrating with the music?"
"No, no... the music is wonderful... it is just the romantic bonds we can see and feel between you up here and your fiance down in the chapel... it's hard to concentrate!"
The other gushed, "It's so romantic."
I had never thought to put the term romantic on two people ministering to souls: me by listening and him by causing people to stop and listen. But I suspect the fragrance of that hour will last far longer than even the potpourri.
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