Because my father is visually challenged, he attended the school for the blind in Brantford, Ontario, many, many years ago. In addition to all the regular subjects taught in that institution, there were lessons in trades that might be useful to students in their adult years. Dad learned how to tune pianos.

Now, he never worked as a piano tuner. As a Salvation Army Officer, he served as an evangelist and preached the gospel all over Canada, in parts of the States and the Caribbean. But Dad always took his tools with him.And when he would go into a little church in a small town in Canada, he would sit down at the piano to play. And many times he would ask,

“When was the last time this piano was tuned?”

Often, the pastor did not know. Since Dad was a perfectionist when it came to the pianos he used. He would get out his tools and take the hours needed to tune the instrument.

He also tuned pianos for friends. I remember going with him and playing with the children in the homes where he would offer his services. And the one tool that he used over and over again was a tuning fork. I would hear him hit it repeatedly so that it would ring out.

That was many years ago now, and my father has Alzheimers. He will never tune another piano. When he moved from the retirement home into an extended care facility, my brother cleaned out his locker. There, he found the case containing the tools of his unofficial trade. Since Dad had four children, the tools were divided between us.

Late last year, I received the tuning fork. I held it in my hands and thought of the many times my Dad held it and the many pianos across North America that he tuned with its help. It was an emotional moment for me.

H a v e you ever seen one? It is a long, n a r r o w object with two prongs. When struck, it produces a perfect “C”. With just that information, my Dad could get every other note right, because he could tune every note to that “C”.

I have placed the tuning fork with my devotional books and Bible because I believe there are lessons to be learned from it. One of my own spiritual disciplines is to strike the tuning fork each morning, before I spend time in prayer. It reminds me of my Dad’s faithfulness and the faith he endeavoured to share with us.

As I t h o u g h t about this, it was confirmed in my heart, h o w important it is to keep our words and actions in tune with our faith. Through the Holy Spirit, we can remain true to Christ’s spirit of love and grace in our words and actions each day. Paul describes this in his letter to the Ephesians.

“I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge — that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.” (Ephesians 3:17-19)

God has given each of us spiritual tuning forks. They are the disciplines and practices that remind us of the faith to which we need to tune the rest of our lives. We need to keep the pure notes they sound ringing in our hearts throughout the day. This is holiness. To try and live our Christian lives without those spiritual references would be like Dad trying to tune a piano without the clarity of that perfect note.

It’s just a tuning fork. Some would not even know what it was if they saw it. But it has brought me a spiritual lesson in the last few months. For that and for the life of the one who owned it, I am grateful.