The Violin

The violin comes alive in the hands of the musician, and beautiful music comes forth.  But for this to happen something must first die.  The violin is made of wood, fir and maple, and the tree has to die first before the building process can begin to create the violin.  If I am to be “for the world,” to become some spiritual instrument for God to express God’s self, then I must go through a dying too.  Die to wanting to be noticed, like a tree that yearns to grow tall and be seen, majestic.  If I let myself, bad wood and all, die to self, God can make something beautiful, to express God through me.  Like a seed that dies, germinates to become a tree, that dies, to make an instrument, I can become what God wants in the hands of God.  Maybe a ukulele?