Oh come, let us sing to the Lord; let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation!
Psalm 95:1
My wife and I had a wonderful evening eating a picnic supper to the sounds of Ecuador Manta, a singing group from the Andes mountains in the country of Ecuador.
In previous years we had the beautiful memories of taking our two children to this park to hike across the dam, to ride our bikes across the dam with little Maria riding in the bike trailer usually attached to either parent's bikes. My son would be riding his own bike. I often remember thinking as I pulled my little girl and wondering about the day she would be able to ride her own bike just like her older brother. It is every parent's wish to see their children grow up into young adults who are able to make decisions for themselves, plan things with their friends, and find their life's work they will enjoy.
On this day it was only my wife and I enjoying the beauty and tranquility of this place. Today our son was leading his own independent life on the final days of his mission trip to Raleigh, North Carolina. Today, Linda and I were creating new memories of this place. As we listened to the music it brought back memories of another era when we were in Ecuador completing the adoption of our beautiful infant son who was a mere 5 months old baby laying in a crib in a Catholic orphanage. Every parent will always have that special memory of holding their son or daughter for the very first time. It is a memory that is permanently imprinted in their mind.
In previous years we had the beautiful memories of taking our two children to this park to hike across the dam, to ride our bikes across the dam with little Maria riding in the bike trailer usually attached to either parent's bikes. My son would be riding his own bike. I often remember thinking as I pulled my little girl and wondering about the day she would be able to ride her own bike just like her older brother. It is every parent's wish to see their children grow up into young adults who are able to make decisions for themselves, plan things with their friends, and find their life's work they will enjoy.
On this day it was only my wife and I enjoying the beauty and tranquility of this place. Today our son was leading his own independent life on the final days of his mission trip to Raleigh, North Carolina. Today, Linda and I were creating new memories of this place. As we listened to the music it brought back memories of another era when we were in Ecuador completing the adoption of our beautiful infant son who was a mere 5 months old baby laying in a crib in a Catholic orphanage. Every parent will always have that special memory of holding their son or daughter for the very first time. It is a memory that is permanently imprinted in their mind.
Tonight, I found my self watching people. .
I watch their expressions and wonder about their story. I believe everyone has a story. Tonight, I saw a young woman who looked like she was a cancer survivor. She had a head scarf that I presumed covered her hair loss. She was dancing at the front of the stage. As I watched her dance I thought about her story. Her story of diagnosis and her need to put her life on hold to undergo the life altering treatments. Her story of not knowing if she would live or die depending how successful the chemotherapy was in attacking her cancer. Tonight, I saw a young woman dancing to the tranquility of sounds as though she wanted to forget everything that has happened to her. She was letting herself go through the dance movements. Tonight, she wasn't just a cancer survivor, but someone enjoying the music and her own dancing.
I saw several young men and woman, with Downs syndrome dancing below the stage. I watched them dance as though for only a few brief hours they forgot they had a disability. I also saw older couples dancing with their spouses as though their dance was a way of reflecting the deep love relationship for each other despite the pain they had to endure through the years. It was as though their dance was a way of rejoicing that they survived all the years of heartache.
I watch their expressions and wonder about their story. I believe everyone has a story. Tonight, I saw a young woman who looked like she was a cancer survivor. She had a head scarf that I presumed covered her hair loss. She was dancing at the front of the stage. As I watched her dance I thought about her story. Her story of diagnosis and her need to put her life on hold to undergo the life altering treatments. Her story of not knowing if she would live or die depending how successful the chemotherapy was in attacking her cancer. Tonight, I saw a young woman dancing to the tranquility of sounds as though she wanted to forget everything that has happened to her. She was letting herself go through the dance movements. Tonight, she wasn't just a cancer survivor, but someone enjoying the music and her own dancing.
I saw several young men and woman, with Downs syndrome dancing below the stage. I watched them dance as though for only a few brief hours they forgot they had a disability. I also saw older couples dancing with their spouses as though their dance was a way of reflecting the deep love relationship for each other despite the pain they had to endure through the years. It was as though their dance was a way of rejoicing that they survived all the years of heartache.
Music has a way of helping all of us to momentarily set aside the worries and the difficulties of life. Music has a way of crossing all economic lines. Music has a way of taking our minds off the mundane and occasionally painful moments of time that cause us to want to weep and ask God 'why'.
We were blessed to have a child who would grow to love music. We were blessed to hear him develop his talent for singing, for the piano and for the saxophone. Little did we realize it would be his musical abilities that would help our whole family recover from the sudden loss of our precious daughter. Just as I had the memories of this group tonight I also had the memories of listening to my son play on the piano in the days when we were missing Maria. His music allowed us to momentarily forget the pain of sorrow if only for a few brief moments in time.
At this same concert we were given a blessing. As though God had given a small window of opportunity to remember Maria. There was a 10 year old Hispanic girl with our daughter's build dancing with her adopted sisters below the stage. For a brief moment of time I was able to remember our little girl. It is as though God gives us those special moments to help us remember the child we once had who now is in a beautiful place we call heaven.
As I looked over at my lovely bride of 25 years I was reminded tonight more than ever how very lucky I am that God brought us together. He knew what he was doing when we first met, when we first fell in love, as we established our lives together and as we weathered the storm of loss together. Yes, wonderful memories were created tonight to the beautiful sounds of Ecuador Manta!
As I looked over at my lovely bride of 25 years I was reminded tonight more than ever how very lucky I am that God brought us together. He knew what he was doing when we first met, when we first fell in love, as we established our lives together and as we weathered the storm of loss together. Yes, wonderful memories were created tonight to the beautiful sounds of Ecuador Manta!
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