Okay, I’ll admit that tapping the funny bone these days is tougher than practicing chiropractic on an alligator farm. In fact, the gaping wounds of Wall Street have all but silenced the silly. Refusing surrender to the somber, I grabbed my boogie board and dove into the surf of the Internet. Soon I breathlessly surfaced through no-food diets and no-frills tooth extractions ads; past online auctions and in-line skating lessons; around non-fact news reports and non-tact political opinions; under sagging skin cream and lagging hair follicle promises. Nothing. Zeroinski. “Alas,” I thought. “Nothing is left to the imaginations.” Then I found the lost music score. Well, not I, but someone in France. According to Reuters News, a small music manuscript noted by someone named Mozart was found in a public library. I can just imagine the accompanying smiles.

Finding something of such value in an age of devaluation is like discovering a Hershey bar in a Nutri-System meals package: you don’t know how it got there, but you’re glad it’s not broccoli. Amazing, an un-finished composition, a symphony in waiting! Somewhat experienced both in music and meal packages, I realized the truth. It needed to be found. Its creator had etched a melody on the page. It wasn’t his fault that it was carelessly abandoned. He had done his duty. He hadn’t neglected to voice the value of his gifts. Someone had needlessly focused on their surroundings rather than on the significant. It is a simple plea: Step across the balance line. Find the music. Listen for the melody in the mayhem. The Creator has not forgotten the tune He etched on our hearts. Nothing silly there; only a somber and sacred pledge to fail us not, even in the multitude of our fears. “Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning” (Lam. 3:23 NLT).