Carey Lynn Tyndall, Heart Sleeve Ministries

The Last Chord: The moment music truly spoke to my heart

When I moved a year ago, the most valued item to transport was the 80 year old upright piano which had been in my family for decades.

I often wondered when the time would come when it’s no longer playable.

It’s a treasure in all my family and has the notches of wear and tear: each one a testimony to a long life in an active home.

* Only a few of us know that the ivory on the keys was replaced decades ago as the original ivory couldn’t endure the trials of a toddler with a hammer.

* A hot coffee cup set on the ledge to the right of the keys stained the dark oak with a white ring. It carries a memory of a visiting family member sitting closely with her arm around a little girl. The girl wiggled her hips side to side and rocked her legs excitedly below the bench as she began to play the new piece she’d learned.

* And the most noticeable sight is what’s left of the wood on the right side of the front panel. During transport in the back of a pickup, an open sleeping bag was used for protection. However the zipper waved helplessly in the wind, banging against the wood, gouging the decorative small piece to the bare minimum.

Alas, over the years it lost its ability to hold a tune and now has about a 4 octave range at best. Plans to refurbish this historical piece - keeping all the cherished markings - are still in place waiting for funds and timing to line up.

When I moved last April, I decided it was time to retire my piano. Which was good timing as it would have taken a college football defensive line to get the solid, heavy instrument up the staircase to the apartment.

So for now it sits protected from damage in my garage.

Amongst all of the stress that goes along with moving, the sadness of realizing that I’ll never play that piano again was caught softly in the knowledge that I have an electronic keyboard gifted to me by my sister. Although I prefer an acoustic piano, I was grateful for the back up when it was needed..

Since moving, I have not played at all. The keyboard has sat in a corner of one of my three bedrooms, covered with a treasured quilt from my mother in law - one of the first ones she ever made. Somehow the instrument being protected by the treasured quilt has given my heart a warm feeling, as if to say: however long it takes, I’ll be ready when you are.

The truth is: despite not enjoying the electronic keyboard nearly as much as my beloved piano, I found security in knowing the keyboard was there. Even though the timeline of returning to the keys was unknown.

Three weeks ago my adult son, who is teaching himself piano, asked for a few tips for a piece he was learning. Eager to assist, I pulled the cover off the keyboard and recorded myself playing some corrections for him to consider. With the video made and sent, the keyboard was once again covered and I went back to my chores, taking with me a little tiny thought “Someday……”

Ephesians 5:19: "Speaking to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit. Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord"

A few weeks later I decided to rearrange all three bedrooms. The main bedroom faces the west welcomes the afternoon sun and sunset. Since the room is the largest of the 3, I decided to make it not only for guests, but also … A music room.

A spark of excitement made my heart skip a beat as I had ideas of “possibly” playing again - even just a little.

With the keyboard moved to the new music room, I secured it onto the stand and plugged it in. I pushed the power button on and watched the buttons respond to the power by lighting up and blinking. “Maybe this time the damper pedal will work. Maybe I’ll learn to enjoy it as much as the one dear to my heart” I quietly hoped.

My fingers landed on the keys for the familiar - and favorite - D Chord.

Nothing. My chin immediately lifted, turning sideways.

D Chord Cadence…. Nothing.

With my heart rate now increasing I tried:

Bass Clef C Chord - nothing.

Panic started to set in and tears sprang to my eyes.

The keys would.not.play.

Even though the keyboard responded to power, it refused to utter a sound.

I did all the things - unplug, plug in, look for hidden buttons or missed outlets, googled, called music stores for help. Finally after receiving a phone number of a “piano fixer”, I texted him to which he responded: “Yep, you’ve got a problem. Good luck.”

Devastation.

And I had to face my truth - even though the electronic keyboard was played very little, its failure to bring sound to the keys wreaked havoc on my nervous system.

Which made me pause and wonder: Am I mourning the loss of the keyboard, or something else?

I’ve only been without a piano for less than 5 of my 56 years of life. And even though the frequency of playing changed throughout the years, the comfort of having one in my possession was unmistakable.

And I realize, It wasn’t even the instrument that mattered. It was knowing that I could always turn to the one thing that truly speaks to my heart: music.

That’s it: music has been the one constant in my life since childhood. No matter my state of mind, music brings a sense of grounding. And in the last several years, playing worship music on the piano has become an intimate form of connection with God.

“How much are keyboards anyway?” I tried to casually ask myself.

So let me ask you: If you were me, would you replace the keyboard?

Even though the winters in the Midwest are getting harder to endure the older I get, some pieces of this season hold special beauty despite the cold.

Hoarfrost is one such beauty.

After seeing some pictures of hoarfrost that my sister took around her ranch, I became curious as to its nature and survival. It is so delicate and forms upon intricate outdoor fixtures. Some of my favorite places are on the chain links in a fence or the tiniest of twigs still clinging to a branch. I’ve also seen it wrapping its spikes around extension cords and other details of outdoor decor like strings of lights.

And it lead me to wondering:

What conditions need to be present in order for it to form?
How long does it last?
What threatens it the most?

As I researched, I discovered hoarfrost needs specific climatic conditions to form into beauty. Water v***r in the air comes into contact with surfaces that are already below zero causing ice crystals to form and grow as the v***r is available. The slightest breeze threatens the duration of the frost. And once their beautiful tips see the sun, life of the hoarfrost soon comes to an end.

While there’s beauty in the fragility of the formations during hoarfrost, I found myself wondering - does that make it weak?

As I look back on the past year’s events I often felt fragile. I thought being understood, staying connected, and remaining strong—for everyone, not just myself—were the only paths towards healing and peace. Stillness, by contrast, felt ugly. Silence felt like avoidance. Avoidance felt like laziness. And laziness, to me, was the breeze that would destroy any chance of healing.

However, having difficulty engaging in “normal” life activities such as conversations about family, work and marriage, forced me into solitude. I found myself experiencing the calm, stillness and silence that I’d been avoiding.

And I wondered “will I always be this fragile?”

****** continued in comments ******⬇️⬇️⬇️

(I hesitated to post this hoping that my intent is understood. Alas, it was important just to share my thoughts and prayers, and allow whoever needs to hear it, that it be so)

Six days before Christmas I laid on the couch alone. At first I was at peace and ready for sleep. But soon after, my thoughts got the better of me and peace was replaced with unwelcome emotions and feelings.

Before I knew it, I was sweating, heart racing and tears flowed easily.

The reason? I was alone. And as a result of decisions to not travel, I would be alone (more or less) through the holidays.

My brain was flooded with memories of family gatherings, beautiful outfits, and great food. The festivities including church, games and opening one present on Christmas eve always brings warmth to my heart.

I think of more current situations: my children meeting with their in laws and I’m so glad they have good relationships with their respective families. I think of friends who have weekend travel plans to see grandparents, aunts or siblings.

Then suddenly my thoughts slid through to the quiet plans I have with my husband next week and a flood of emotion relating to loss and grief wrapped my body.

We are deep into the empty nesting stage of life and we have experienced more Christmases alone than we have with our children. We’ve made arrangements to have celebrations throughout the month, as many people do, but for some reason I became very sad about being alone this year, specifically at Christmas time.

In my head, I listed all of the reasons I had to be sad and grieving… which lead to even deeper sadness and grieving. I started comparing my life to others and asking what have “I” done to curate the alone-ness - as if I have somehow orchestrated everyone else’s choices in life.

I thought of others who are alone at Christmas, and have been for many years. I say a little prayer for their heart, hoping they know Who holds it. "But I trust in you, LORD; I say, 'You are my God.' My times are in your hands." Psalm 31:14-15

A little over a year ago I experienced changes in my life that altered the trajectory of everything I held close to me

One of them I knew was coming

Two of them blindsided me

I haven’t been able to share a lot about these experiences because deep down I knew it would be coming from a place of confusion, anger, bitterness and a desperate need to control my circumstances and the outcome. And social media is not the place to process those emotions.

But prayer is.

During the darkest times of sorting through truth and things that really matter, God never left my side

No matter how angry I got

No matter how desperately I cried out

No matter how many times I wanted to give up

He always showed up

Sometimes it was a whisper
Or a Word
Or kindness through others
Or a hug from a friend, or even a stranger

Sometimes it came through a loved one who never gave up

Healing from brokenness is beautiful and ugly. Every day for months I tried picking up the pieces and putting them back together, hoping they’d stick and I could finally “move on”

But one morning as I realized all the broken pieces were yet again on the floor, He whispered “Leave them with Me, it’s why I’m here”

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.”
‭‭Psalms‬ ‭34‬:‭18‬ ‭NLT‬‬

What I know for sure now is that the ONLY relationship I need to truly fuss over is the one I have with Jesus Christ

We can trust God with our biggest emotions and our smallest fears.

We can trust him with our broken hearts and damaged relationships

We can trust him to heal our past and pave our future

But most importantly, we can trust Him with today, with this very moment.

Perhaps at some point you too have realized that your circumstances aren’t what you thought they would be

Or, you’re asking yourself “how did I get here?”

I just want you to know: I see you. God sees you. You are not alone.

It’s the perfect place to be after a weekend of refreshing with the Lord His purpose and presence in my Life