The recent months in which my arm was in a splint created the longest period in which I have not played guitar, since middle school. Callouses were a permanent feature on my fingertips, and my left pinkie was strong. Not Half Dome climber strong, but enough to do my bidding.
I have lost ground. It will take effort and repetition to
regain the capacity to play easily. Fortunately, four year olds are forgiving. More than forgiving, they do not even notice my shortcomings. Kind of like angels.
It seems that knowing the right chords is not the same as making music from them.
One of my goals this month is to be kind. Not in an abstract, frilly way, but a manner that I can quantify. An idea plopped itself in my lap of just such an opportunity, and at first I
dismissed it. Then I thought about the list on my phone, the one spelling out objectives. I did the small task.
With the one who was in faith not separated from charity, the angel spoke as follows:
"Friend, who are you?" "I am a Reformed Christian." "What is your doctrine and the religion you have from it?" "Faith and charity."
"These are two things?" "They cannot be separated." "What is faith?" "To believe what the Word teaches." "What is charity?" "To do what the Word teaches." "Have you only believed these things, or have you also done them?" "I have also done them."
The angel of heaven then looked at him, and said, "My friend, come with me, and dwell with us." Emanuel Swedenborg, Faith 43
