We stayed in the "Lower Barn," which is a barn that was converted to housing livestock to housing human beings sometime in the 1930's or so. It is called the Lower Barn because the family that owns it also, at one time, owned the other barn associated with it, which is further up the hill.
Hence, the one further up the hill is called the "Upper Barn." It is now owned by the woman who played the normal cousin, Marilyn, on "The Munsters" television show.
Behind both the Lower Barn and the Upper Barn runs the West River, a rock-strewn stretch of mountain river that has a constant murmur and gurgle. When it rains and the level of the river rises, the sound becomes more than a lullaby; it is a real presence.
A photo looking off the back deck of the Lower Barn is included with this post. It shows just how close the river is and what it looks like, rocks and all.
There have been reports that people can hear music when the doors that lead to the deck are open. It is faint, not easily heard, and if the truth be told, rather eerie. Even disconcerting.
I have heard the music for years, mostly because I've spent considerable time at the Lower Barn--alone.
But my wife Jan heard the music a couple of years ago when she, too, spent some time alone at the Lower Barn.
This summer, Clella heard the music when she was at the Lower Barn--alone--while the rest of us were off on a nighttime jaunt on Sheep Hill. When we returned I went in to check on Clella to see how she was. When I entered the room, Clella sat up in bed, her face literally as white as a sheet. Her eyes were wide and a look of terror was there.
Clella had heard the music. It didn't bring peace to her.
Why? Probably because it is disconcerting to hear music when none is playing, especially when no one else is there. Just a guess.
What's up with the music?
Here is my guess: it is the music of the earth, of creation, that seeps into our conscious minds once in a while. In a sense, it is God talking through His creation, which cannot help but sing praise to the One who is the Creator of all things.
Here's how Isaiah describes it: Sing for joy, O heavens! Rejoice, O earth! Burst into song, O mountains! For the Lord has comforted his people and will have compassion on them in their sorrow. Isaiah 49:13 (NLT)
When Jesus was riding into Jerusalem and the people were shouting, "Hosanna!," the religious leaders told Jesus to silence the crowd. He responded, "I tell you, if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out." Luke 19:40 (NIV)
Perhaps, just perhaps, the river is singing and even shouting praise to the One who is the Maker and who is sovereign over all things.
Perhaps, just perhaps, we, when we are still enough, will hear, beneath the deafening cacophony of our worries and anxieties, the music of creation singing praise to its Creator.
To make it what it really is--perhaps, just perhaps, we are hearing the stones and the water cry out their praise to Jesus. He did say, didn't he, that you can silence the praises of people, but when you do, creation will pick up the tune and continue giving praise and worship to God--just because He is who He is and because He deserves it.
Is it really all about Jesus, though? Yes.
He [Jesus] is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn over all creation. For by him all things were created: things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or powers or rulers or authorities; all things were created by him and for him. He is before all things, and in him all things hold together. Colossians 1:15-17 (NIV)
Read that passage over carefully. "By him all things were created." "All things were created by him and for him." "In him all things hold together."
The music of the river gives evidence to the sinew of the world, the universe, all creation--Jesus.
It all has been created by Him, through Him and for Him. It's His.
And His creation does what it wants to do: Sing back to Him.
It's really cool when you get the chance to listen in.
