Rachael prayed for a piano. It is funny, sometimes, the things we pray for. We appeal to God for health, success, provision, and other noble asks. We approach him on behalf of neighbors, family, friends, and the guy on the corner with a piece of sharpie-etched cardboard that says, “Please Help”. All those things are appropriate, and a great idea, to bring to God. I think, though, God smiles when we ask him for the things, for which, He alone knows our deepest “why”. He knows our value and longs to give us good things.

David, Rachael’s husband, noticed his neighbor struggling. The man pulled, heaved, and scooted something entirely too large for one man to move. David recognized the shape, the shape of an old upright piano. Being neighborly, David ambled across the street to offer help. As they finished moving the instrument onto the porch, the neighbor asked if David knew anyone who needed a piano.

Rachael got a piano. It is also funny, sometimes, how God answers our prayers. Her new piano was not a $100,000 Steinway. It was an ugly, neglected, cast off from across the street, desperately in need of tuning.

Not long ago, I sat and listened to a group of women tell parts of their stories. We all have one, complicated, filled with ups and downs, angsty and hard to talk about. The stories we tell speak of hurt and are often accompanied by tears. We mistakenly believe the imperfect nature of our past disqualifies us, somehow, from doing the thing we know deep down we were created to do. We let our stories harass and harang us into becoming silent. We dutifully march through life hoping to not be exposed for the frauds we feel like.

The stories reminded me of Rachael’s piano, with its battered patina. I can relate to the instrument. In the dark moments, I expect to be dragged off to the dump with all of the other cast-off things. Our stories have that in common. We mistakenly believe only pretty, sparkly lives, unblemished by wear and dysfunction are capable of contributing anything good to God’s Kingdom.

Rachael showed me a picture of her piano. In David’s retelling of the story, he called the piano ugly. Rachael shared that she had queried several friends on whether or not it needed to be stripped and refinished. To my eyes, it was beautiful. When I looked at the picture, God whispered to my soul. He said, “What others see as neglected, cast-off, and ugly, I see as worthy, useful, and capable of making beautiful music.”  

Only God knows the whole story of Rachael’s piano. If it could talk, it would likely tell both of beautiful songs and yearning to be used, good and bad, bright lights, dark days, and years gone by … just like each of us. To Rachael, though, the piano represents provision from God, a timely answer, a reminder of how He heard her heart and responded in love.

“On the day I called, you answered me; you increased strength within me.”

Psalm 38:3 (CSB)

He knows our stories, even the parts that hurt to tell. Our stories matter. All that has worked to create our particular patinas is known to Him. Our stories uniquely qualify us to do the thing we know deep down we were created to do. Just like Rachael’s piano, God will use us to bless the lives of others, in spite of the things we think diminish our value.

What has God whispered to your soul? What do you love to do? Who are you drawn to? These answers point to the purpose for which you were created.  Please don’t let your dark days, your rough edges, or the things that hurt to talk about keep you from your purpose.

I imagine Rachael’s piano full of joy. It was lost and now it is found. I believe God smiles when He hears its music, tuned or not. I also believe God smiles when we summon even an ounce of courage to function within our callings, to contribute in the smallest way to His Kingdom. To God, that is beautiful music.

“The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me. Lord, Your faithful love endures forever; do not abandon the work of your hands.”

Psalm 38:8 (CSB)