The Conductor

The conductor stands at the ready, whilst the musicians tune and tweek their instruments. He listens for faulty notes, uncoordinated sounds, anything that will displace the organized strain of the symphony.
He lifts his baton in the air, a gesture of power and authority. 

He is the conductor.

He knows the strength of his orchestra, he knows the power to behold from their sounds coming together. He knows the weakness of each, the note that will be difficult to play. He signals to this one, then that one..

He is the conductor. 

There is security among the musicians. Each knows without the conductor and his bold baton, chaos will rule in the orchestra. No sound will make sense, no tune will come together. The musicians know what power they have in their instruments. They know, though, that without the conductor, the power is nothing more than a cacophony, nothing more than a mixture of harsh sounds. 

With the lift of his arm and the stroke of his baton, a hush falls over all in attendance. The anticipation in the air, it prickles on the skin of all who wait. Then, the sounds burst forth and it is glorious to behold! Every instrument working together, complimenting each other. He demands more from this one, then less. He demands less from this one, then more. 

He is the conductor. 

Sweat beads on his brow as he gives himself fully to this sound, this refrain. His breath comes heavy, as he wildly works, to pull from each all he knows they are capable of giving. He closes his eyes as the sound of his orchestra washes over him. The musicians are surrendered to it now, flowing with the melody, at peace in the knowing that he is there, guiding their harmony with his passion and power.

He is the conductor.

In the end, when the final note is played and he lowers his baton to rest at his podium, he offers a smile, to each he has lead. His heart is full at the sight of their faces. Each having trusted him with their individual composition. Each having surrendered to the sound of together rather than the hum of just one. Each having realized that he knows better than they. He sees the trust in their eyes, the faith they now carry. At last, they all see, they have heard and even felt, that he conducts with passion, pulling from them more than they thought they could give. Yes, they have all seen, have heard and felt, that he really knows best, that he leads with his whole heart.

He is the conductor.

After all, they are the musicians, only as powerful as the instrument in their hand. It is he that makes a glorious, magnificent sound, a composition of beauty and artistry. He is the one that pulls from their hearts, passion to follow his lead and power they did not know they possessed. He is the one that brings the crowd to its feet, wild with applause. For it is he that leads, that orchestrates, that composes. It is he that pulls forth the sounds of the symphony. With the rising on their feet and the bowing of their heads, they declare to the crowd that has watched in great awe, that they are the very instruments themselves, listening and watching, doing and being, letting the story unfold through their sound and his conducting. He has pulled forth from them a tune worth hearing and a story worth telling.  

 He is the conductor. 

Lord, we each have a place in your symphony. You know what beautiful sounds can be made from the story of our lives, only you know. Help us to surrender to you, the conductor, and to play with peace and passion the melody you call each of us to play. 

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