A player piano sits in the lobby of a local hospital. A fine, Yamaha, baby grand. With a blinking, electronic box affixed under the high notes. It makes a nice space feel classy. More importantly it fills it with music.

Sometimes hymns. Sometimes classical. Sometimes jazz. Sometimes easy listening.

It's nice. But.

It is a player piano. With a blinky box.

It is not the same as heart & soul, fingers & feet.

There I sat. Near the piano. Enjoying its sound. Lamenting it's lack of soul. When two men arrived.

One in his sixties. Distinguished. Business-like, even in casual dress.

One in his thirties. Challenged. Struggling to walk, body wracked in debilitating disease.

Father & son.

We exchanged smiles & made small talk while they waited. They waited until a third man came. Quickly. With a key. To turn off the blinky box. In order that the young man might sit & play.

Real life. Heart & soul, fingers & feet. Tumbled hard onto the bench.

And he waited. The son at the keys waited. For his father's direction. The name of a song.

Softly. Almost unheard. The father would whisper.

Slowly. Processing direction. The son would respond.

More than a dozen songs as I observed.

Son waiting. Hands in lap. Head titled slightly back & right. Sitting in silence. The father would whisper. The son would cock his head forward. Place his hands over the keys. Pause. A few breathes. Then play.

Sometimes hymns. Sometimes classical. Sometimes jazz. Sometimes easy listening.

Heart & soul, fingers & feet. The young man who struggled walking, soared playing.

So beautiful his music.

So much more beautiful his response to the direction of his loving father.

Can you hear God our Father's voice? How do you respond to His direction?

Play your part. Play with heart & soul, fingers & feet. Play as our Father directs. Play with all you have got.