Oh!--also, I resonated with your eye-opening soul-surgery during the Disney movie. Mine was instigated by a chapter from L.M. Montgomery's "Chronicles of Avonlea."
I *know* it's "just a novel," but when that minister took away the violin from his grandson, I experienced the pain...of my own losses.
The violin had been the boy's only link to his dead father--whom the grandfather hadn't liked because he was a no-good musician, and had ostracized his only daughter for marrying him anyway. When the boy was left an orphan, he brought his father's violin and came to live with the grandfather. But the instrument and the musical glories the twelve-year-old *already* could draw from it--ahh, they brought back painful bitterness in the grandfather's heart. Taking it away, he put it away where the boy could never find it, and extracted the promise from the grief-stricken boy that he would never play again. Never.
But Old Able, on the other side of the village, had a fiddle and played it sometimes in his dooryard. And one day, chancing by his place, the boy stopped to listen...wandering closer. Old Able couldn't miss his entranced absorption, and offered the violin to him to play. And oh, could he play! Old Able had never heard such enchantment! On and on, the boy made the music sing and cry, 'til tears ran down Old Able's weathered cheeks!
But who should happen along about that time, but the grandfather. He recognized that music as far and away beyond anything Old Able had in him. He *knew* it was his grandson!--the grandson from whom he expected greater things than music!
Striding up to the young violinist, the grandfather surprised him from behind...taking the violin away and handing it back to Old Able--who looked on, slack-jawed, amazed and horrified. Lowering his voice to a threatening intensity, the grandfather reminded the boy of his promise, never to play violin again. He had broken it. He had breached his grandfather's trust. They would need to discuss what his punishment should be for such an egregious betrayal.
Old Able came up out of his splint-bottomed straight-backed chair fairly roaring with rage! What right had the old man to deprive the boy of his talent?!! Who did he think he was?--God Almighty?!!? That he should make a child promise such a thing, and expect him to deny the Gift of who he *was*! Old Able declared that it was the stupid things like that, that religious men did, that made him decide long ago never again to set foot in a church house! And he, wretched reprobate that he knew he was, wouldn't want to trade places with the self-righteous grandfather when they both stood before God on Judgment Day!
How did it end, that story? I don't remember. But the story has haunted me for years...
I, too, know people who meant well...but were just *wrong*.
They hurt a lot of people. They hurt me.
I've finally been able to truly trust God with my lost opportunities.
I know He has redeemed many of them.
In the Hereafter, I'm sure Jesus will help me find answers to my questions.
Meanwhile, I keep looking for His hand in my life.
It comforts me to know those other people are no longer in charge: *I* am--because *GOD* is!!!
I learned not long ago that one of our family names--way back--was Darling, as a middle name!
I love it! One of my second cousins has done a lot of genealogy work. I learned that from him.
I think, though, that 23andMe is what I need to do next. Or maybe I need to go back to Ancestry.com to see what they've come up with since the last time...which wasn't much. [Essentially, I'm from Northwestern Europe and the British Isles! Duh! But no Native American shows up???]
So, yes...understanding the roots helps us to better process our past and grasp who we are now and how we got here. Forgiveness, *and* gratitude. And healing. Good stuff.
Thanks, Cheri! I'm looking forward to your new chapters!
Oh!--also, I resonated with your eye-opening soul-surgery during the Disney movie. Mine was instigated by a chapter from L.M. Montgomery's "Chronicles of Avonlea."
I *know* it's "just a novel," but when that minister took away the violin from his grandson, I experienced the pain...of my own losses.
The violin had been the boy's only link to his dead father--whom the grandfather hadn't liked because he was a no-good musician, and had ostracized his only daughter for marrying him anyway. When the boy was left an orphan, he brought his father's violin and came to live with the grandfather. But the instrument and the musical glories the twelve-year-old *already* could draw from it--ahh, they brought back painful bitterness in the grandfather's heart. Taking it away, he put it away where the boy could never find it, and extracted the promise from the grief-stricken boy that he would never play again. Never.
But Old Able, on the other side of the village, had a fiddle and played it sometimes in his dooryard. And one day, chancing by his place, the boy stopped to listen...wandering closer. Old Able couldn't miss his entranced absorption, and offered the violin to him to play. And oh, could he play! Old Able had never heard such enchantment! On and on, the boy made the music sing and cry, 'til tears ran down Old Able's weathered cheeks!
But who should happen along about that time, but the grandfather. He recognized that music as far and away beyond anything Old Able had in him. He *knew* it was his grandson!--the grandson from whom he expected greater things than music!
Striding up to the young violinist, the grandfather surprised him from behind...taking the violin away and handing it back to Old Able--who looked on, slack-jawed, amazed and horrified. Lowering his voice to a threatening intensity, the grandfather reminded the boy of his promise, never to play violin again. He had broken it. He had breached his grandfather's trust. They would need to discuss what his punishment should be for such an egregious betrayal.
Old Able came up out of his splint-bottomed straight-backed chair fairly roaring with rage! What right had the old man to deprive the boy of his talent?!! Who did he think he was?--God Almighty?!!? That he should make a child promise such a thing, and expect him to deny the Gift of who he *was*! Old Able declared that it was the stupid things like that, that religious men did, that made him decide long ago never again to set foot in a church house! And he, wretched reprobate that he knew he was, wouldn't want to trade places with the self-righteous grandfather when they both stood before God on Judgment Day!
How did it end, that story? I don't remember. But the story has haunted me for years...
I, too, know people who meant well...but were just *wrong*.
They hurt a lot of people. They hurt me.
I've finally been able to truly trust God with my lost opportunities.
I know He has redeemed many of them.
In the Hereafter, I'm sure Jesus will help me find answers to my questions.
Meanwhile, I keep looking for His hand in my life.
It comforts me to know those other people are no longer in charge: *I* am--because *GOD* is!!!
I learned not long ago that one of our family names--way back--was Darling, as a middle name!
I love it! One of my second cousins has done a lot of genealogy work. I learned that from him.
I think, though, that 23andMe is what I need to do next. Or maybe I need to go back to Ancestry.com to see what they've come up with since the last time...which wasn't much. [Essentially, I'm from Northwestern Europe and the British Isles! Duh! But no Native American shows up???]
So, yes...understanding the roots helps us to better process our past and grasp who we are now and how we got here. Forgiveness, *and* gratitude. And healing. Good stuff.
Thanks, Cheri! I'm looking forward to your new chapters!
I love this Cherilyn.
This is awesome, Cheri, and the photos of you ancestors are amazing! They’re beautifully colored, too.