Just Playing It Normal

I’ve enjoyed watching my six-year-old violin student blossom this Christmas season. She recently became a confident music reader, and she is learning one Christmas carol after another. She knows no fear. She’ll try any song in her book. That doesn’t mean she’ll play it right. “Silver Bells” has a G sharp. She hasn’t learned that note yet. “I’ll just play it normal,” she told her mom. Her mom and I cringed.

I don’t mean to be picky, but mostly right isn’t right enough. It’s painful. I certainly wouldn’t tell my orchestra conductor, “Don’t worry about that exposed second violin part. We’re almost in tune!”

But how often do I slip into this mentality in my private life? I’m good most of the time. I’m only snippy with my sister once in a while. I was only a little impatient with that student. I only held a little grudge against that person who wronged me.

God has designed an amazing symphony for us to perform with our lives, and I mostly play the right notes. Why should He care if I skip a G sharp once in a while and “just play it normal”? When I tune my ears to hear the symphony the way God composed it, I understand. Then I, too, cringe at my missed sharps and out-of-tune notes.

And that’s the meaning of Christmas. I couldn’t play it right so God joined me. He took on human flesh. He came to die for me because I could not be perfect. He joined the second violin section because I could not play alone.

O little town of Bethlehem,
How still we see thee lie!
Above thy deep and dreamless sleep
The silent stars go by.
Yet in thy dark streets shineth
The everlasting Light;
The hopes and fears of all the years
Are met in thee tonight.

O holy Child of Bethlehem,
Descend to us, we pray;
Cast out our sin, and enter in;
Be born to us today.
We hear the Christmas angels
The great glad tidings tell;
O come to us, abide with us,
Our Lord Emmanuel.