Joni Eareckson Tada: Sharing Hope

Joni Eareckson Tada: This is Joni Eareckson Tada, Sharing Hope. Here's Joni with a very precious memory of her dad.

I know that my hands have been paralyzed for a long time, but these hands of mine used to love playing the piano. Long before my diving accident, I started piano lessons at the age of seven, and I pretty much took lessons all the way up to my senior year in high school.

I remember playing the piano for our junior high choir, and unlike some, I really enjoyed practicing on the piano. On a summer afternoon, I'd open the big windows in our living room, pull myself up snugly against our little baby grand, and I'd play Chopin or a piece by Bach. Secretly, I think I hoped my piano playing might reach the ears of a passerby on the sidewalk outside our house.

I look back on that memory and it makes me really miss playing the piano. One of my most precious memories of my dad involves a time when I was at my piano. I was playing a beautiful quiet composition by a contemporary artist, and little did I know that Daddy had tiptoed into the living room. He did not say anything. He did not announce his presence or say, "Oh, Joni, don't mind me, just keep playing."

In fact, for many long minutes, I did not know he was there. I did not see him. Then I caught him out of the corner of my eye, sitting in the comfortable chair just behind my piano bench. His eyes were closed. His head was laid back. He had the sweet smile on his face, listening to every bar, every measure of my music.

And suddenly, the tune I was creating was much more important. I played with extra care, extra feeling, all because I knew my daddy was listening. Best of all, I knew I was bringing my father great pleasure. I knew he was taking pride in his daughter, and that felt wonderful.

Oh, friend, how much more important it is to remember that when you are serving your Savior? How much more important it is to know that your Heavenly Father is watching you, observing you, delighting in you, and the gifts he's given you? Shouldn't that make you feel wonderful? And another thing, think about the life choices you're making.

Do you live out your confession in Christ with carefulness and great feeling? Your actions, I mean, the way you play out the melodies of your life, shouldn't you do it with firm intention and carefulness knowing that God is listening, he's taking note?

I mean, if you really knew, really knew the Lord of the Universe was near you, cupping his ear to listen, would it change what you say and do? Of course, it would. And Psalm 69 reminds us of that. The Lord hears. He hears the needy. God is listening, and I hope that knowledge inspires great joy rather than fear in your heart. God hears you.

My daddy passed away way back in 1990. I treasure so many memories of our times together. Horseback riding, tent camping on the beach, hiking, and yes, my daddy and I even painting together. Often I'd use his paint box, and together we'd sweep and swirl colors on our canvases.

But no memory quite matches that perfect moment when daddy tiptoed up behind me in the living room and slipped into the comfortable chair behind my piano bench. Catching him out of the corner of my eye, knowing he was listening and enjoying my music, it meant the world, and it still does.

Friend, please today, would you see the Lord out of the corner of your eye? Know that he is listening in on your conversations, observing your actions, considering the thoughts that pass through your mind. Would you please do your best today to please him and to bring pleasure to his heart? It's what sons and daughters of their great daddy do.