Dusty Harp

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Written by Bobby Burgess

My dusty guitar is in my hands, and as I strum the mistuned strings, I think of David in Saul’s court. To soothe someone full of anger and hatred, possessed perhaps by an evil spirit sent by the Lord to torment him; what skill he must have had in his hands.

Barrrummmm! No, that’s not a real chord. My cat doesn’t seem soothed. If David misplayed his harp, would Saul have achieved a look of indifference on his face? It was said of David that he was skilled with his instrument, and how it must have been beautiful music to relieve someone of their anguish for a while.

Clunk! Hmmmm. Did David smack his harp against a table now and then? The cat looks up. Does he seem to desire to hurl a spear in my direction? No, it seems not; the birds in the window are his mind’s prey.

What did David’s music sound like? The soft rain of notes falling in suspended and seventh chords, longing for peace in the house of the King? Were they sounds of joyous major  scales, resounding the past triumphs of home and battle?

The cat doesn’t care much for either, and yawns as he watches the leaves outside. I’m glad I have a chance to practice on him before I must come before the King and explain my errant talents to him.

1 Sam 16:23 Whenever the spirit from God came upon Saul, David would take his harp and play. Then relief would come to Saul; he would feel better, and the evil spirit would leave him.

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