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The Musician
by George Parler 
05/10/06
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As far back as he could remember, the musician carried within him an inherent quest for the song. He never really understood nor questioned why he was compelled to play. And those not of his kind never truly understood him. How could they, for they could never know the melody he searched for. A song without lyrics, never before heard by man.

So through his life he played with the same fervor as those who gasped to breathe. Pausing but for a moment, nodding to those who thanked him for a song. For a song that allowed them a moment away from the toils of this life. He would smile and thank them for their kind words. But behind the smile, he ached for the melody that had so long eluded him. The melody that when played, spoke the unspoken words. The words laced within the melody that only God Himself could hear.

Many times in the twilight of night, all alone he would play. Exhaling his heart through his hands, upon his instrument. The night would hear his songs of triumphs and failures; his laughter and tears, while still desiring to catch the song. The melody that swirled in his head, yet the volume was too low to distinguish the notes clearly.

Now the musician grew older, his hands became wrinkled and sore. Yet he still played through the pain, because he could never stop as long as he drew another breath.

The audience of men said, “Why doesn’t he stop and pursue something else? His songs are old and no longer sell.” They no longer needed him for their escape from the day. But they never understood that he played for an audience of one.

The day came when his instrument was put away for one final time. The light had left from his eyes from the body he had left behind. He found himself in the company of angels, who said, “Come, the Master is waiting.”

The light from the throne was overwhelming, as the musician fell to his knees. And then all of heaven hushed and became silent, as the Master said, “Let it begin.”

The melody, so exquisite, began to ring out through heaven. The musician began to weep bitterly as he heard the song. The song that had been beyond his reach all of his life. It was the most beautiful song he had ever heard.

When the song had finished, the Master said, “What’s wrong my son. Why do you morn so.” The musician replied, “Master, this is the song I have desired to play for You all of my life. And now my life is over and my instrument is laid to rest. I have spent my entire life on earth in search for this one special song that I might play it for You. And now I stand before you only to find out you have already heard it.

The Master smiled and said, “Son, you do not understand. I’ve never heard this song until this moment because it was still being written until you arrived here today. Each day of your life was a note in the melody of your song to Me. A symphony of your life was completed this very day. Every act of compassion and love to another strummed the notes of your melody together. I heard every song you played in the night and your desire to please Me with your talent. But of all the songs you have written, this is my favorite one of all. Well done my son, well done.”



If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW

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Member Comments
Member Date
Carol Penhorwood  01 Dec 2009
This truly was a gift from God! You are an artist blessed by God used to touch the hearts of us all! Truly no reason to mourn, is there? What a glorious day ahead!
Anne Linington 04 Jan 2009
Gosh! The early part had me thinking about David singing to the Lord; but how I loved the final paragraph with its melody and symphony images. I think this article deserves a wider audience, but I see it's listed as not for sale.
Verna Cole Mitchell  03 Jan 2009
Masterfully written, George. I can see your heart in the story.
Joanne Sher  15 Mar 2007
Just amazing, George. You sent chills up my spine. This is wonderful in every way.
Catrina Bradley  14 Mar 2007
A masterpiece of emotion. I have tears on my cheeks. Oh I long to know what I will hear and see on the day I bow before God Himself! So wonderful, George.
Sara Harricharan  13 Mar 2007
I followed Pat's link...glad I did. This is beautiful and soul-stirring. Awesome writing! ^_^
Karie Spiller 06 Jul 2006
Excellent article. I am sending a link to this story to my musician husband. I think he'll like it. Thanks for sharing.
Pat Guy  27 Jun 2006
Wow! Perfect! Beautiful beyond words.
Hannah Violette 24 Jun 2006
This story is very heartfelt, picturesque and pointed in its message. As a musician (performer/composer/lyricist) myself, I sure can relate. On a grammatical note, be careful not to mix tenses, for example: "As far back as he can remember, the musician carried within him an inherit quest for the song." In this sentence, you should have started out, "As far back as he could remember, the musician carried within him an inherant quest for the song." Also, the word you wanted was inherant, not inherit.
Hannah Violette 24 Jun 2006
Oops, I made a goof myself! That word it "inherent". That is definitely the correct spelling!
Rita Garcia 05 Jun 2006
Written with the inspiration of The Master! Beautiful, absolutely beautiful! Wow, brought tears to my eyes!
Dr. Sharon Schuetz 24 May 2006
WOWWIE!!! ZOWWIE!!! What are you doing on an oil rig? This is awesome. You have such a gift. I can't wait to see how long it'll be before you're in Masters.
Joanne Malley 22 May 2006
This is a beautiful, annointed piece of writing! It gave me tears and chills. Keep writing! Jo
Birdie Courtright 19 May 2006
Wow, George! This is a wonderful story. I could see it so clearly. Beautiful!
Edy T Johnson  18 May 2006
I checked in here, to thank you for your comment on my Bittersweet poem, and found this touching story! What a refreshing take on our trying to give our best to the Master! This is just beautiful. Thanks, twice over!
Brandi Roberts 17 May 2006
This is absolutely beautiful and breath-taking. "He played for an audience of one" I have tears in my eyes!! THIS is what it means to be an artist. Thank you.
Linda Watson Owen 17 May 2006
Oh,yes, George! You have captured the yearning of the artist who has been touched with God's great Love! The inherent compulsion to search for the song, the story, the poem, the painting that will glorify Him in the ultimate way! No need to mourn...it is our very lives that is our ultimate work of art! Beautiful!
Claudette Wood 17 May 2006
"Exhaling his heart through his hands, upon his instrument." What an absolutely beautiful description of the heart of every true artist. Well done! Bravo! You made me cry while I am at work, but for the beauty of this, I'll forgive you. :) Thank you.
Virginia Gorg 17 May 2006
This is excellent. Reminds me of that song by Wayne Watson "Touch of the Master's Hand." Thanks for writing this and sharing with us :)
Shari Armstrong  17 May 2006
Wonderful! It gave me chills!!! Thanks for sharing this (from one musician to another :)
Sherry Wendling 10 May 2006
Wow. You are 'killing me softly' with this piece. For all the times the Lord has tried to get through to me that my worth does not lie in my talent, this article hit the deep place! Beautifully and sensitively written, with a smashing ending. Thanks so much for this!




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