Symphonic

 

My memories of playing cello in good, big orchestras are wonderful. There is something so awesome about playing away at your own particular part, coming together with others who have practiced their parts, and all looking to the same conductor to get timings right, crescendos and diminuendos, etc.

We were asked in church what word could headline the week we each just lived. Chuckling, I thought chaos (happy chaos with visiting family). But upon reflection, the word is symphonic.

There was a distressing video call with the carers at Mom’s residence. I enlisted family and friends to begin praying. There had been talk of hospice care: I emailed two cousins, one of whom spent her career in geriatric care. There had been notification of Mom’s new – and only – pair of glasses being lost: I emailed another cousin and his wife once I knew they were going in to visit yesterday. I contacted Mom’s doctor through the portal, and called her insurance company.

Late Friday night, I called the residence, as I’d had no updates on Mom’s condition for four hours. Spoke to a different carer, who knew all about these episodes and comforted me that it is normal with dementia, and informed me, to my amazement, that Mom at that moment was outside enjoying the garden with other residents! I had thought the end was nigh.

Responses from the first two cousins, one in Wisconsin and one in Oregon, came in quickly. Great words of comfort and encouragement as well as professional insights into the whole management of hospice care and so on. A response from the ones near Mom, who went in, and located the lost glasses under the bedside cabinet. A reply from her doctor, agreeing that hospice agency care would be helpful. A response from the insurers that it is covered on her policy.

We’re still in the practice room, but the music is beginning to come together.

God has been the maestro in the symphony of my life these last few days. With the soft rhythm and harmony of prayer constantly undergirding everything, he has orchestrated the answers to the situation, bringing in the appropriate ‘musicians’ at just the right moment.

It’s clear that the tempo has changed in Mom’s condition, and that some new melodies have been added.

Whatever is going on, knowing that the Lord is the consummate maestro is such relief, such joy. I may not have chosen this particular piece of music, but He is working through it to bring about a masterpiece. Praise Him.