And then there was one.

That phrase above describes a very rare scene at the deli I work at, the extremely few random moments in the week when there is only one customer in line. Typically we are swarmed with ten to fifteen regulars at any given moment, each wanting their generous share of sliced deli meats and containers of cold pastas/salads. Many are patient, a good handful are not: I’ve seen fights break out between customers, and twice I have even witnessed people trying to cheat their way to the front of the line. Unbelievable.

All I hear throughout the day are the constant shouts of “Quarter of a pound of Ekrich honey ham, sliced thin!” or “Medium container of the lemon chicken pasta, not packed too full!” that hardly ever allow a silence.

The rapid pace of the deli makes the day go by quickly, and the busyness somehow thrills me a bit. But the “and then there was one” moments are the moments that really make my day.

Because in the lull, I can hear the music.

And let me tell you, my grocery store sure does know how to pick its tunes. The soundtrack that gently plays in the background, whenever it finds me in a lull, is almost always a favorite or even better, a new favorite. I absolutely love when I can hear the music.

Just as precious to me are the times I get to remove my self from the deli counter and hide away in the back kitchen. When I walk through the swing door away from the customers, it is like entering into a whole new world. In the back is the kitchen staff that cheerfully teases each other in Spanish, chop their vegetables, and wildly sing and dance to their Latino music all at the same time. I absolutely love when I get sent to the kitchen to do a menial task, where I get to join them and can hear their music as well.

Throughout my life, but particularly in college, I have had many “customers” to attend to. That might mean anything from friends to family to schoolwork to volunteering to my ambitions, because a customer is someone or something that you serve. I tend to spend a great deal of my energies and time pleasing them, and the busyness somehow thrills me a bit.

However, because I don’t allow myself a lull, I can’t hear the music. The music is the parts of life that are true blessings, the ones that break through the mundane, the ones God wishes for us to experience and find joy in and grow from.

And let me tell you, God sure does know how to choose the music. The soundtrack that he composes and gently plays in the background, whenever it does find me in a lull, always becomes a favorite. I absolutely love when I can hear the music.

Yet somehow we get sidetracked and distracted enough by these other things that we start to believe that we ought to listen to them and keep ourselves busy by them. Of course, they are all a part of life, but we fall for a horrible trade, making greater allowances for the mundane and accepting a smaller portion of what is truly uplifting to the spirit.

It is important to remember to allow yourself to be removed from the noise and the customers, because it is in the lull or the escape to the back kitchen that you find that God can most bless you.