The pianist

She strode to the stage with an elegant swish of her black dress. "I'm going to play for you a song I wrote." And with a twirl she was at the keyboard. She pulled the microphone a little closer to her pretty lips. Her slender fingers laid on the keys, ready for her to begin. She looked down with love at the instrument. This was her time. 

At once her fingers were in a blur. A fantastic melody rushed into the air around her and swept the audience into its enchantment. After the intro, a voice like gold entered the scene. Words and harmony were one. She and the piano were one. She played for an audience of One. 

She looked at her audience with meaning. These words God gave her to write, these words were for these people. Her earnest eyes scanned the room, desiring to make these people believe what she was saying. But she knew God was the One to change hearts and to speak to souls. 

So she turned her gaze to where her hands were headed. She sang to the people for her Abba Father. She played the music He gave her. And she was happy.