May
2
2012
The Yoke
Posted in Faith 5 Comments
I play the piano.
There is something so special about sitting at the piano when the house is quiet, when no one else is around, and just play to my heart’s content.
Growing up, my mother always said she knew the kind of day I had by the songs I played.
My emotions tended to come out through my fingers.
Like any young piano student, I didn’t like to practice.
One day, I came home from school and the lid that covered the piano keys was pulled down.
It was always open.
Asking my mother about it, she gave me either the most brilliant answer or the most ridiculous.
You don’t practice. There is no reason to keep this piano. I am going to find someone we can give the piano to…someone who will appreciate it.
My mother knew me well.
Just the thought of losing that piano was enough to make me practice.
Practicing was never a problem again.
Playing the piano has been a tremendous blessing.
There was always music in our home; my children were surrounded by it.
They all sing or play an instrument…with some playing more than one.
I used to play the piano during the worship time at a women’s Bible study years ago.
The director of the prayer and care ministry, at the church I attended back then, asked me if I would play the piano for the funeral service of a man named Jack.
I didn’t know Jack, but I felt led to say yes to the request.
I played the songs that were asked of me.
I had the privilege of listening to all that was said about this special man.
Jack was never married.
He had taken care of his aging parents until they both died.
He had retired from a company he had worked for his entire life.
Not having any family to speak of, the company made all the arrangements for his funeral.
One by one, people had amazing stories to tell about Jack.
Selfless, kind, quiet yet encouraging…
Faithful, a man who loved the Lord, wonderful to his parents…
I was sad that I never had the opportunity to know him.
This glimpse…this small window…was all I had of the man.
I was touched when I heard stories about how he took care of his parents.
His father died first, then he cared for his mother until her death.
Through it all, he never missed work.
A man of integrity.
When I gathered my music books and got ready to leave, an envelope was given to me.
A gift for you…for your music.
I knew right away it was payment for playing the piano…something I never accepted.
The man from Jack’s company, who made the arrangements, said that I must take it.
There was no saying “NO”.
I struggled all the way home with that envelope.
I hadn’t even opened it.
Payment for my music.
I was the one who was blessed by all I saw and heard.
I had been looking for something for my family room, at that time, and could not find it.
I wanted a yoke.
A real oxen yoke to hang on the wall.
We have high ceilings in our family room.
There is a quilt on the wall over the fireplace.
I knew just the spot for my yoke, on the opposite wall.
It was an item on my wish list.
As I drove home from Jack’s funeral, I saw an antique store that I passed all the time.
Sometimes, the owner put items out front, but I never took the time to stop.
I was thinking about Jack…the man he was…wondering if he had been lonely…
I glanced over at the antique store.
There it was!
Leaning up against the wooden posts out front…
My yoke!
I pulled over, stopped the car, and got out.
The yoke was perfect…in great condition…exactly the size I had been looking for.
I hesitated to look at the price since I had no idea what an old yoke might cost.
The price seemed reasonable.
Then, I noticed the envelope sticking out of my purse, which I had not closed all the way.
I opened the envelope and saw that the amount I was given was the price of the yoke.
It was truly my yoke…Jack’s yoke…God’s yoke.
Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light. (Matthew 11:28-30)
I drove home with the yoke in the back of my minivan.
My husband got the right kind of wrought iron hooks and hung it for me.
It is still there, all these years later.
That yoke is so meaningful to me. It reminds me to yoke myself with Christ.
I pull and resist His leading, but I only end up hurting myself.
I must submit, and lean gently into His yoke, and allow Him to lead me.
Jack honored God with his simple, humble life.
Jack loved others because he loved God first.
Jack honored his father and mother.
Jack is now home with His Lord.
When I got home that day after buying my yoke, I noticed that the program, handed out at Jack’s funeral service, was still inside one of my music books.
I couldn’t believe what I saw.
Jack died on my birthday.
Dear Gina, Speaking of “perfect timing”, I thank God for the gift of friendship! Linda Perry introduced me to your web site….I thank God for her friendship, and now I’m blessed to find another “Sister in Christ”….you! In His Love, Linda Leinbach.
Linda,
Perhaps, if you ever come to visit Linda, God will open up a way for “two sisters” to meet face to face.
Thank you for your kind words.
Gina
Dear Gina, Our gifts of love to others honor our Lord. Isn’t it beautiful to see His Love come full circle! First to Jack , who received his Heavenly reward and then to you! In His Love, Linda Leinbach
I love this story, or actually layers of stories…your mother’s wisdom, Jack’s testimony, sharing your musical talent without expecting payment, the signficance and procurement of your yolk! Did you wonder at the time if the antique dealer had just put out the yolk that day? I treasure knowing you and feel blessed by the way you have chosen to share these experiences from your own life.
Linda,
I am delighted that you were blessed by this story.
I have the privilege of looking at this yoke…and remembering…every day. In my heart, I believe that the owner of the antique store put the yoke out that morning. I will never know for sure…
But I do know God’s timing is perfect!
You are a precious friend to me, as well.
Gina