Janice Crow

Oct 08 Reflections

My brother Bill knew one thing that would drive me crazy…that’s why he did it so often. He would stop by the old upright piano in the dining room and play a familiar musical line …all but the last note, then just walk away. He knew in just a few seconds I’d fly out of my bedroom in a dither and tack on the last note. I had to. I couldn’t stand it. Otherwise it was just this unresolved melodic phrase hanging out in space and my mind would have no peace until it was done.

Bill wasn’t the first to employ that tactic. I seem to recall an old Daffy Duck cartoon where his nemesis used a similar routine…only that one ended in an explosion triggered by the correct note. Would Daffy never learn?

Somewhere at my mother’s house is a small alabaster bust of composer Franz Schubert, my old piano teacher’s “award” to me for doing well at one of her recitals, circa 1963. How odd that Mrs. Reader would reward me with the image of a man whose defining composition was “The Unfinished Symphony”. But then, how could she know that anything unfinished would drive me crazy?

At some point after I got married real life set in and hectic and “unfinished” seemed to be my life’s theme. When my son, Jim, was born I began a Fred Flintstone latch hook rug for his bedroom. He turned 30 in June. It’s still unfinished. I began a baby memorabilia book when Jamie was born. It’s unfinished. I just had her 28th birthday party. I never dreamed life would become so busy. It’s just a blur at times.

I’m looking out my patio door at the grid and exposed joists for a 12 x 18 back porch that was begun in April and is still unfinished. Down the hall are two bathrooms that are in dire need of renovation…one before the floor gives way, the other to just complete a window wall project that was started in June. And, of course, they are unfinished. Downstairs there is the framework for a sound room. It’s been a framework since March of ’06. It is, naturally, unfinished.

There are albums begun for hundreds of family photographs that are, you guessed it, unfinished. There is always a stack of laundry in the utility area, as well as old clothes to sort and dispose of by yard sale or charity. The laundry is ongoing and, therefore, unfinished.

A co-writer sent me lyrics to work on a week ago and to date they are …unfinished. I have various song fragments or “giblets” as I call them stuffed in notebooks and drawers…unfinished.

I have prayed and prayed over situations that have dogged my family for years with no apparent solution, and although I have seen a breakthrough of sorts, a cloud the size of a man’s hand you could say, it is still…unfinished.

When you combine all the things in life that are unfinished, the frustration is overwhelming at times. You begin life with the potential to weave a beautiful tapestry and at times it seems that all you have is frayed edges and loose cord.

But despite the frustration the “unfinished” brings to me, I know someone who is the great “finisher”. God’s word says that he who began a good work in us will complete it. There is hope for even me!!

I have heard much discussion over the years as to Hebrews 12:2: “Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.”

Most of the discussion seems to focus on the fact that Jesus sat at the right hand of God and why the right hand. Important as that is, that’s not the part that really catches my attention. What I notice is that he sat down. Why? Because that’s what you do when your work is done. It was finished…just as he said on the cross. The Father’s plan to bring light and life to mankind was finished there that day, and through Him we have assurance that all these things that confound us day by day will someday be….finished.

Janice