The master conductor stood before the group of talented musicians. There was absolute silence as the concert was about to begin. He told them that when he raised his hands they should sing and when he folds his fist they should halt. He said that their eyes should not waver from his and the rod in his hand. “Pay attention, pay attention to me”, He said.
Alto tenor soprano, bass, pause, standstill, drag… Pause standstill drag… Pay attention. Keep your eyes fixed on me as i lead.
Sweet music like the nice smell of a well seasoned meal filled the hall. All eyes followed closely as his hands told stories of “stay or go”.
Alto tenor soprano bass, pause standstill drag.
The atmosphere changed, sweet melodies of spring filled the room. The audience stood in awe…This is heavenly!
Alto tenor soprano bass, pause standstill drag.
All of a sudden, another conductor emerged on stage, lurking around looking for a prey. He stood for a while as the beautiful melodies continued being produced and waited for one, anyone of the musicians to look his way.
One eyes turned back and within a split second, his whole body was turned toward this new conductor forgetting the original instruction “Keep your eyes fixed on me”. One eyes, turned two, three, four five until one third of the choristers were now looking at the second conductor who stood behind. Forgetting the instruction “look at me, my hands, feet, eyes as I lead you through this chorus of life. Your music would touch the heavens but look at me”.
Nothing seemed different at first as the second conductor now held the attention of some choristers. However, slowly, time and time again, the difference started creeping in and sooner than expected, that once glorious melody became noise incomprehensible.
What happened to sweet melodies touching heavens?
What happened to angelic visitations and spirits totally yielded in surrender to the master conductor in front?
What happened to these sons who should show forth His praise?
Deception, pay attention.
Slowly creeping in. One quick looking to the side, one moment of doubting in your heart Peter and your feet is already sinking.
May my whole life be expression of your grace – this is worship.
Keeping your eyes fixed on Jesus the master conductor, refusing to be swayed, rooted, feet firmly planted in the ground. Trees whose roots drink directly from the river refusing to be swept by the wind. A generation who will cry out “Lord, not my will but yours”.
Lord, let my life reflect you
Let my eyes be glued to you
Like puppets; whose hands and feet do not understand the language of struggle.
Like puppets; who cannot comprehend the language of resistance.
Like puppets; whose hands and feet only bend and move in response to the master’s control.
Like puppets; who have no thoughts to think…wasting precious time contemplating.
Like puppets; who cannot say to the potter why are you making me this way.
Like puppets.
Lord i make a decision to keep my eyes fixed on you the master conductor.
I, like a puppet would be pliable in your hands.
PS:
“The People of Israel marched at God‘s command and they camped at his command. As long as the Cloud was over The Dwelling, they camped. Even when the Cloud hovered over The Dwelling for many days, they honored God‘s command and wouldn’t march. They stayed in camp, obedient to God‘s command, as long as the Cloud was over The Dwelling, but the moment God issued orders they marched. Numbers 9:19…”
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