The Guest of the Maestro

What happens when a dog interrupts a concert?

To answer that, come with me to a spring night in Lawrence, Kansas.

The conductor, dressed in tails, strides onto the stage, springs onto the podium, and gestures for the orchestra to rise. The musicians take their seats, the maestro takes his position, and the audience holds its breath.Enter, stage right, the dog. A brown, generic, Kansas dog. Not a mean dog. Not a mad dog. Just a curious dog.

At home in the splendor. Roaming through the meadow of music.
He visited the woodwinds, turned his head at the trumpets, stepped between the flutists, and stopped by the side of the conductor.
The musicians laughed. The audience laughed. The dog looked up at the conductor and panted. And the conductor lowered his baton.
He stepped off the podium and scratched the dog behind the ears. The maestro spoke to the dog. He spoke in German, but the dog seemed to understand. The two visited for a few seconds before the maestro took his new friend by the collar and led him off the stage.

Can you find you and me in this picture?

I can. Just call us Fido. And consider God the Maestro.
And envision the moment when we will walk onto his stage.
We won't deserve it. We will not have earned it.
The music will be like none we've ever heard.
We'll stroll among the angels and listen as they sing.
And we'll walk next to the Maestro, stand by his side, and worship as he leads.

He, too, will welcome.
And he, too, will speak.
But he will not lead us away.
He will invite us to remain, forever his guests on his stage.

From "When God Whispers Your Name, "Copyright 1994, Max Lucado