Harmony

Just a few days ago, I saw just what happens when things are out of sync. The knives that cut down the crop as we harvest are operated by two drives on opposite sides. We had a lot of trouble getting those two drives in sync. One was a little faster than the other and the whole thing was getting worse and worse...the whole header of the combine was vibrating and things started breaking. And the more out of sync it was, the worse it shook and things started to fall apart.

We live in a world that is driven by all kinds of forces and passions and it has fallen apart. It's in the process of breaking apart even more. We know this is true and that it will continue until the Redeemer comes and restores the earth, collects His bride and redeems His creation.

In the poem starting off this chapter, I wondered what musical instrument I might be like when the strings of my soul are restored. I'm hoping to sound like a classical, acoustic guitar...mellowed with time, made rich by the stress of tuning and gentled by the Master's hand. But most of all, I want to be right in the midst of a whole orchestra of other beautiful souls forming the most passionate and creative blend of music ever heard.