The Keys of Life
On music, waiting, and the season God has you in right now.
"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens."
— Ecclesiastes 3:1
There is a certain kind of restlessness that happens when a part of your soul — a gift God placed in you — has been sitting quiet for too long. For me, that's always been music.
I've been missing the keys lately.
People who know me know I love the guitar, but if I'm being honest about who I am at the core, I'm a drummer and a keyboardist. There's something about rhythm and structure that feels less like playing music and more like coming home. The guitar is a companion. The keys are a conversation.
Finding the Right Fit
Solomon wrote that there is a time for everything — and I think that includes the instruments we play, the tools we use, and the seasons we find ourselves in. A full drum kit, even an electric one, is more than my current chapter can reasonably hold. But a 66-key Bluetooth keyboard connecting straight to my iPad and GarageBand? That's the right instrument for this particular season. Ready when the Spirit moves, stowed away when the work is done.
Pete Seeger heard Ecclesiastes 3 and turned it into a song. The Byrds took it to number one. Thousands of people sang Scripture without even realizing it — because truth has a way of finding its melody whether we plan it or not. I think about that when I consider how God works in our own lives the same way. He doesn't always give you the full studio. Sometimes He gives you exactly what fits the room you're in — and that's usually more than enough.
The Harmony of Faith
I called this post "The Keys of Life" because I keep coming back to the image of a life as an instrument in the Creator's hands. He knows every register. The high notes — those bright, joyful seasons that feel like a song you can't get out of your head. And the deep bass notes — the heavy, slow seasons that don't feel like music at all while you're living them, but somehow give the whole composition its weight and meaning.
There is a time for the high notes. There is a time for the bass. Solomon knew it. The Byrds sang it. And somewhere in the waiting, God is still composing.
Final Thoughts
When those keys finally arrive, I don't know exactly what will come out. Maybe something worshipful, maybe something that just feels good to play. But the gift doesn't disappear just because it's been quiet — and this season of waiting has reminded me of that. The melody is still there. It's always been there.
It's all a conversation with the One who gave me the gift in the first place.
Turn, turn, turn.