It has been a while. The drape-covered piano sits in the perfect spot at home. Perfect light, all the music within reach, but it has been a while. As writer by calling and administrator by profession, I spend more time tickling a keyboard than tickling the ivories.

And I miss it.

A creative outlet left to gather dust for no significant reason. I notice the dustiness lays not only on the instrument. I used to be able to choose a harmony in any song and belt it with confidence. From youth group ages ago, to choir, to church, my musical ear could create harmony against almost any melody. Who knew that was a honed skill? I suspect that muscle memory in my fingers is not the only memory at play. Musical memory–an innate knowing of which chords go together, which sounds work, where to clash and how to resolve that clash–I now know that was honed along with every song I played, and especially the ones through which I stumbled.

My musical memory is dull. It stands out now in the small church group we have–well, it stands out to me. I have lost the harmony.

And yet, deep inside, the musical memory can still be stirred. Another alto in the room hits a harmonizing note and I can jump on that bandwagon. A bass hits a different harmony, and I can jump that up a level and go from there. And it amazes me how the fellowship in music has stirred the musical memory.

It shows me that when we feel spiritually rusty, fellowship can hit that note and bring us right back to where we were. Walking alongside a fellow Christian gives us those opportunities to remember, to stir the stilled waters, and we get right back in fellowship with God. We need not start from scratch. Just hop on with another and keep going.

“Jesus said to him, ‘He who is bathed needs only to wash his feet, but is completely clean; and you are clean…'” –John 13:10, NKJV

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