It had been a while since I had completed a new song.

Eldon Thompson passed away in January of 2015.  Bishop Thompson was our home teacher for the first three years that we lived in Sierra Vista.  He never missed a month.  In fact, in spite of all of life's demands, I am told that he was a 100% home teacher for 60 consecutive years.  Our family came to love him and his teachings and the stories that he shared with us each month.  From the first time we met him and his wife, it was obvious that they love the Savior and His Gospel - and he was eager to share that love with others.

The morning of the funeral, as my family finished preparations to attend, I sat down at the piano in our home and, in short, let my feelings out.  I started playing a song that I had shared at the funeral of a man that I had home-taught years ago.  And then new chord progressions and melodies came out.  I remember thinking that I liked the sound of it and wanted to remember it for future reference.  Then we got in the car and headed to the funeral.

At the funeral, the family shared some writings that Bishop Thompson had written not long before, comparing himself to an old violin that needed to be put back in its case.  The words touched me, and I immediately had a desire to use them for a song.  It was weeks before I requested a copy of those words from the family, but they gladly provided it, and also provided some words from a grandson, Caleb, who had taken the words some steps further, which is what I wanted to do.  I was grateful.  I had held in my heart that music that had come to me on the morning of the funeral, and, armed with these writings, I began to attempt to put words to it.  Admittedly, very few of the words and phrases can be quoted from those original writings of Eldon and Caleb, but I feel that I stayed true to the message that they were conveying. I am grateful that, because of our Savior Jesus Christ, our music will truly never end.  I believe this is the message that Bishop Thompson would have us all feel in our hearts.

This Old Violin

 

Sleeping in my chair, in spite of all the pain,

I was in a dream, as an old violin.

This old violin was being put away,

It had no music left... to play.

 

But what music it had played, while in the Master's hand,

When in His symphony, it had its place.

But now the time is near, according to the plan,

To put this violin in its case.

 

 

But in a coming day, and in another place,

The Master will again, bring forth this violin.

There's music left in me, that can't be put away,

More praises to be sung... to Him.

 

There's music left in me to play, while in the Master's hand,

When in His symphony, I find my place.

And now the time is near, and now I understand,

This old violin will still be played.

 

And now the time is near, in His eternal plan,

When this old violin will find its place.

 

The music doesn't end...  it's now that it truly begins.