The Piano and the Little Girl
The picture you see here is a split shot of my daughter Ella at only 5 days old on the left and 1-year-old on the right. Both photos were taken by pianos. I didn’t really think much about it in the first photo. It just seemed like a nice place for a photo-op. It was aesthetically pleasing and looked pretty darn cute. But by the time the 1 year photos rolled around, I started thinking about the significance of her placement in these pics.
You may see it as me being an over-the-top stage mom with musical genius aspirations for my little girl. In reality, though, that’s not even true. I have enjoyed being a part of the musical world, but it has also been an extremely painful place at times. I don’t need my daughter to become a singing, piano-playing prodigy for me to be proud of her.
The reality is, though, that the piano represents so much more than just the music it produces in my life. The piano has been an altar for me. It has been a place where I’ve sat down in the moments of my darkest grief and poured out my soul to God, begging Him for healing. It’s been a seat where I’ve entered the deepest courts of worship and found myself immersed in the presence of God like no other time before. In short, the piano has been a special place for me all of my life.
That is what I want for my daughter. Whether it be a piano or another place altogether, I hope she can find her own special place where she experiences God and builds her own altars before Him.
As a side note, it was at the very same piano pictured on the left that I sat and cried my guts out when I heard that my 3rd baby, a daughter named Angelina Grace had no heartbeat 24 weeks into my pregnancy. I remember sitting there and wondering how I could get through the pain. It was there that I heard God speak to me and say “God will restore.” Seeing Ella at that very same place in flesh and blood is the absolute personification of the fact that God does, in fact, restore.