Determination Breeds Success.

There is a swimming black bear that has a curious habit of steering a straight a course regardless of the hurdles that may lie in its way.

Several other animals share this habit. There are many snakes that insist on swimming in one direction. Observers in the tropics have reported incidents where large swimming snakes have encountered a canoe and, instead of detouring around it, have simply slithered over, across, and down the other side of the boat.

Some land turtles are so determined to walk in a straight line that they will push against a telephone pole all day rather than go around it. You might say, that shows how stupid they are, for that is the way it seems.

But animals such as the ones described do not know how to change course when faced with an obstacle; their actions result from built in instincts. If a person followed such a rigid path in the face of difficulty, we might consider him too not be very intelligent. Or depending on the situation, we might call such a person stubborn. If all we were considering was a relatively unimportant jaunt, this would probably be a correct conclusion. But there are circumstances under which such single-mindedness would be a virtue. The psalms talk often of God putting a straight path before us (e.g. psalm 5:8) and Jesus talked about the way to heaven being straight and narrow. (Matt 7:13-14). Successful Christians follow the path of obedience that God has revealed to us.

It was a beautiful summer day in the Austrian Alps. Thirty-one-year-old Ludwig Van Beethoven rambled through the countryside with his pupil, Fritz Ries.

             “This, my lad, is the source of my music,” Ludwig said, throwing out his arms  to encompass forest and stream, mountain and sky.

               “Is the shepherd boy also one of your sources?” Fritz asked. “It’s a happy little tune he’s playing.”

“Hmmm? What did you say?”

“The tune the shepherd is playing on his pipe,” Fritz spoke a little louder. “It’s such a bright, lilting tune. It makes me want to dance. Don’t you hear it?”

               “A shepherd pipe? Where?”

               “There to your left.”

Not 10metres away a shepherd lad sat on a rock, pipe in his mouth, his body swaying in time to the song. Ludwig stopped for a moment, straining to hear the music. He heard nothing but silence.

Oh no! Ludwig thought. I’m going deaf! How will I ever play music if I can’t hear the sounds?

Doctors gave him pills and potions, but nothing helped. He retreated into a life of solitude for a time, refusing to meet people or to perform. He wandered the hills and wanted to die. Life seemed hopeless.

Then one day he decided, “I will not let my infirmity get me down. I may not be able to hear the music in my ears, but I can still hear it in my mind. This ugly thing that has happened to me will be transformed into beauty in my soul. I can still write music for the glory of God.” He went back to work and produced much of the music for which he is now famous.

By the age of 40, Beethoven was completely deaf. At the age of 53 he wrote his most famous symphony – Symphony No. 9, also known as The Ninth. I marvel at how all the orchestration and choral Ode to Joy was written in his head and transcribed onto a score. He conducted the inaugural symphony himself. The audience gave a standing ovation which he was unaware of, until someone walked onto the stage and turned him around to see all the audience applauding.

The Ninth is unquestionably the greatest of all symphonies not only because it is the final résumé of all of Beethoven’s achievements, colossal as they are even without the Ninth, but also because it voices the message of one who had risen beyond himself, beyond the world and the time in which he lived.

Even the famous Fur Elise, written in 1810, was done so while he was deaf.

When something bad happens to you, press on and look up. Like Beethoven, you can transform your tragedy into beauty. You don’t have to be discouraged. Your heart can still sing. You can still praise the Lord.

Beethoven lived from 1770 – 1827. He died at the age of 56.