Dancing in the Reflections: As It Is Written, "Things Which Eye Has Not Seen and Ear Has Not Heard, and Which Have Not Entered the Heart of Man, All That God Has Prepared for Those Who Love Him" (1 Corinthians 2:9).

By Patricia Mussolum

Dancing in the Reflections is an invitation to keep an expectant lookout for the unfathomable experiences with God in our daily livesfor He is constantly, romantically, and passionately chasing us with His love.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Mar 6, 2015
• ISBN: 9781490869421

Patricia Mussolum

Patricia Mussolum lives in British Columbia, Canada. She is married with two children and two grandchildren. She continues to teach piano well into retirement and will continue as God brings students to her—believing that God doesn’t have a retirement plan. She is a water color artist and has recently begun lessons in violin, loving the challenge. She has led various Bible studies in homes and churches, and never tires of the stories shared with others. “Everyone has a story,” she says. “It’s about where they are with God, whether they realize it or not. He is constantly pursuing and loving them.” “So let us know, let us press on to know the Lord. His going forth is as certain as the dawn; And He will come to us like rain, Like the spring rain watering the earth” (Hosea 6:3).

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Chapter 1

Dancing in the Reflections

One January Day

‘For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways, declares the Lord (Isaiah 55:8). Neither is God’s timing predictable, so it wasn’t surprising that one January, a day after my birthday and during a struggle with the flu, God spoke to me.

The sun shone through the south windows of my house, and a star-size reflection danced on the west wall before me. Looking around the room, I searched for the source of the reflection. Was it my watch or maybe a spoon on the kitchen table? Eventually I found it: the water in the vase that held a beautiful bouquet of flowers from my friend Ursula, who had dropped by with surprise birthday wishes the previous day. Why is the reflection dancing? I asked myself.

Further observation revealed that the tall Douglas firs to the south of my house were swaying gently, interrupting the steady flow of sunlight. The trees were giants, some almost a hundred years old.

I turned to the bouquet; the flowers were remarkable in variety, fragrance, and color: bright blues, deep reds, and happy yellows nestled in dark-green leaves. They were both delicate and audacious.

When someone is ill and impervious to the distractions of ordinary routines, such a reflection can bring fresh insights. I thought about the Bible’s reminder that this world is a mere reflection of heaven: Things which eye has not seen, and ear has not heard, and which have not entered the heart of man, all that God has prepared for them that love Him (1 Corinthians 2:9). Could it be that our entire earthly experience pointed to a greater reality?

I began to think about the present moment. Violet, the family cat, was snuggled on my chest, her front leg wrapped around my neck and her purring so comforting. I was amazed that an animal could love and trust a human. If life was a reflection of heaven, what would it be like to have a lion approach me in paradise, bump its massive head against my leg, and lie down to purr beside me?

I turned my eyes to the south where mountains blended with the sunlight on the horizon in colors ranging from purple to light mauve to pink. I recalled many sunsets and sunrises, never identical but always capturing my attention. I imagined that in heaven I’d be able to run to the peaks and to see ever-changing vistas, living and inexpressible. Have you ever photographed a spectacular scene only to experience disappointment when it was reduced to the confines of a piece of photo paper? Maybe our earthly experience is like that sheet of paper; the real thing is yet to come!

I recalled a tender experience one beautiful spring day when my dear sister Nell stood at the end of our driveway with her index finger pointing straight out. Do you think a cardinal will come and perch on my finger when I get to heaven? she wondered aloud.

Nell had been diagnosed with terminal melanoma. During our years in Ontario, she and I were always thrilled at the sight of the brilliant red cardinals winging their way through the air or whistling their lovely songs in the springtime. When Nell died a few months later, I was amazed at the number of cardinals that appeared everywhere I looked. They built a nest three feet from my daughter’s bedroom window, and we watched them raise their young. When I went for walks in the nearby park, they would fly down and land on the path a few feet ahead of me. When I looked out of the kitchen window, a cardinal would frequently be perched on the handlebars of one of my children’s bicycles, which leaned against the side of the house. When I opened the front door, another cardinal would be sitting on the metal railing enclosing the porch.

I accepted those birds as gifts; they encouraged me and reminded me of Nell and our earlier conversation. They confirmed that she was in God’s beautiful presence. What were the chances of this experience being incidental?

This incredible planet, with all of its complicated magnificence, begs us to stop and to reflect.

There’s more. The unanticipated words surfaced in my mind. You haven’t heard My mountains sing

The Music of Creation

Having taught piano for many years, I’ve often asked myself what the world would be like without music. It’s one of those miracles we can easily take for granted. We flip on the radio or pop in a CD, enabling music to permeate our senses. Children, adults, and even animals are drawn to it. Humans produce melodies and rhythms by strumming, plucking, bowing, drumming on, or blowing into various instruments. I recently watched a video showing a flute being fashioned from a carrot!

Music can excite us, cause us to dance, calm us, or provide the backdrop for celebrations. Music therapy isn’t new, as 1 Samuel 16:23 confirms. An evil spirit was tormenting King Saul, and he sent his servants in search of someone proficient at playing the harp. David was a shepherd but had won a reputation as a talented musician. He probably had lots of time to practice the harp in the pastures where only the sheep heard the wrong notes.

The messengers heard about David, and he was summoned to Saul’s palace. The king was pleased with David after realizing that the melodies from his harp brought relief from the evil spirit. Today music therapy is used to facilitate emotional healing and to relieve depression.

My friend Janet notes that whales have been recorded singing melodies. We have all heard birds sing, crickets chirp, and frogs croak at dusk, but did you know that the mountains sing?

My friend Leona says the leaves on certain trees on the prairies create clapping sounds on windy days. Psalm 148 lists who and what must praise God: angels, the sun, the moon, the stars, sea creatures, the ocean depths, lightning, fire, hail, snow, clouds, stormy winds, fruit trees, cedars, wild animals, cattle, small creatures, flying birds, kings of the earth, nations, princes, men, and children. In fact, scientists have discovered that the stars and the planets emit musical sounds.

Do you know that God sings His songs to us in the night? The Lord will command His loving kindness in the daytime; and His song will be with me in the night, a prayer to the God of my life (Psalm 42:8). Many wonderful hymns and spiritual songs are available for our worship, but we aren’t limited to them. We can also sing secular songs to Jesus, because He knows our hearts and to whom we’re singing. These are the words from one of my favorite secular songs: You are so beautiful to me. You are so beautiful to me. Can’t you see? You’re everything I hoped for. You’re everything I need. You are so beautiful to me.

The night before Jesus’ crucifixion, the apostles sang a song. His return will be heralded with trumpets that will alert the entire globe. The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, He will rejoice over you with singing (Zephaniah 3:17 NIV).

I like to imagine that when I die, I will go out with joy and be led forth in peace, that the mountains and hills will break forth into singing before me and that all the trees of the field will clap their hands (Isaiah 55:12). Maybe then I’ll have supernatural faculties and will hear God’s magnificent symphony.

What will a mountain’s song be like?

What will it be like to hear all of creation sing?

Surprises

Last January, my husband, Barry, and I joined our daughter for lunch at a restaurant and finally celebrated my birthday. Our previous plans had gone awry because I had the flu. As I enjoyed a delicious steak and a salad, I was given cards and encouraged to open the one at the top of the pile.

When I did this, to my surprise and delight, I held the gift of an exciting adventure: the whole family had pitched in to send Barry and me to the Wickaninnish Inn on the west coast of Vancouver Island. This place, resting on a rocky bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, is renowned for its beauty. The inn