I stood in the hallway, motionless. On the other side of the bathroom door the 1924 World Olympics were in full swing and I waited for the competing runners to burst through the door on their way to the finish line. If I lingered around long enough I thought that I might be able to watch the medals being awarded.

No, wait…it was Darth Vader himself…Yup…the dreaded Darth Vader marching to…Chariots of Fire?

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My oldest son was just barely one when he received the Little Tykes xylophone as a gift from a friend. The body was made of bright red plastic with eight different colored metal bars that lined the top, and a bright yellow mallet was attached by a very short string. The mini-instrument was a much-loved toy in our home and many little hands had used it over time, exploring the world of making music through bangs and bops. Over the last couple of years, as our boys grew, the xylophone sat untouched as most toddler toys do in homes with older children. I was absolutely sure it was time to find another home for it.

One thing about kids, though, is this: They pleasantly surprise you…often.

For three days the xylophone would disappear and every time I would find it I would then replace it back inside its box. It didn’t make sense to me why the toy, which had two wheels, would just roll away, especially to the bathroom. No one in the house had shown interest in it for some time now. Maybe I was losing my mind?

One early afternoon right after lunch, the house had grown quiet when the two younger boys were outside in the backyard.  Though I could hear them hooting and hollering on the trampoline I was also able to be acutely aware of other things going on inside.

It was that moment that was the first time I heard it. Even John Williams would have been surprised at how beautiful his world-renowned “Star Wars Theme” sounded on a simple eight-note percussion toy meant for tiny tots. It was music! Stunningly gorgeous vibrations of music echoing off the tiled floor and walls that surrounded the bathtub. The beautiful tune swirled in the cast iron tub and rose to bounce between the two mirrors before it escaped through the small gap under the closed door.

The smallest room in our home had become a tiny music hall where the acoustics brilliantly displayed the musician-in-the-making. I cracked open the door and glanced in to see our oldest son, eleven at the time, sitting on the edge of the tub holding the red handle of the xylophone in one hand and the mallet in the other. He was playing with complete confidence in his brand new half-music-studio-half-bathroom, not missing a beat. He had found a secret place and in the quiet that surrounded him he was discovering something special: A beautiful gift within.

When I was pregnant with our first son I used to play in a band at church during worship and my keyboard was right beside the drummer. The most bizarre thing would happen during my third trimester while I would play for those twenty to thirty minutes each Sunday. I began to notice that he would beat against my womb in perfect rhythm with the percussion. The first week it happened I didn’t think much of it, but as the weeks passed by, I couldn’t ignore the internal metronome that was keeping time with the drummer that I stood beside. I didn’t have a doubt that he was going to be gifted in music.

The song switched from the “Star Wars Theme” to “The Linus and Lucy” as I quietly slipped back into the hallway and shut the door behind me. Wanting to give him his space as he explored his talent, I stood outside the door and listened as “Chariots of Fire” glided over the bathroom tile. After that “Amazing Grace” rose in all its glory straight to the very throne room of heaven. Tchaikovsky’s music has always been one of my son’s favorites and he didn’t disappoint, and even Mozart’s “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” was simple but dazzling in the porcelain cave of the bathroom.

There was a sense of shock and awe that I felt while I discreetly stood eavesdropping on my son’s ongoing performance. He was brilliant in the world of music in so many ways and he has never failed to show us that over his short life.

The crazy thing is that I had spent years trying to teach him how to play all his favorites on piano but he never showed interest.  His fascination had always been the drums and most any percussion instrument (aside from the piano, of course). Oh, how I wanted him to play the one instrument I could teach him. I had so much to offer him as he was discovering this talent that had always been there, but no matter how hard I tried, he never adopted the piano as his own passion. Our lessons soon became an awful battle that both of us dreaded.

Yet, here my little maestro sat in between the tub and the toilet playing on a child’s toy, eighty keys short of the piano.

While listening to him play I couldn’t ignore what was going on in my  heart. We, as parents are archers, always aiming the arrow that’s been placed in our hands toward the mark set by our Creator. Sometimes our angles are off and we have to pull back and readjust, but sometimes, we have to loosen our grip on the arrow to allow the nock to rest right against the bow string in just the right way. We’re constantly adjusting and readjusting knowing that one day this arrow is going to launch and praying that we have done our absolute best to aim him in The Right Way.

Psalm 127:3-4 kept repeating through my head. “Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, The fruit of the womb is a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, So are the children of one’s youth.”

I love it. In this verse, God likens parents to warriors, and that we definitely are. We were created to be coverings for a time to love and to protect young hearts as they grow into thriving adults. We constantly war against the twisted ways of the world and the schemes of the enemy, and we are always on guard watching those that surround our children; praying for good influences and weeding out the bad.

But sometimes we get mixed up and we battle against the ones we’re raising, not even realizing what we’re doing.  I fought with him for so long trying to teach him my way, but, my way wasn’t the right way.

Dreams can begin to grow in a little heart while they sit on the side of a tub with a Little Tykes xylophone just as easily as they can be born on a Steinway piano in the middle of the living room. Steve Jobs created Apple in a garage, and Paula Abdul recorded her first major hit, “Straight Up” in…you guessed it…a bathroom, of all places.

I thought the only way to help him develop his God-given gift was by teaching him piano, but as I shared, that clearly wasn’t the right direction to aim. So, I did the next best thing. If he was going to play the xylophone in the bathroom then I was going to encourage him in any way that I could. I bought a chromatic xylophone, one that has all the same white and black keys that a piano does, as well as many more bars and several octaves instead of just one. If you come to my house you will find in on top of the hamper in the boys’ bathroom. That’s where it sits waiting for an inspired soul to play in our mini amphitheater that also has a toilet and a sink.

One thing my boys have definitely taught me is that children are gifts that are full of so many different gifts, but we as parents don’t determine what those giftings are or when they will blossom. I realized through this life experience that we’re called to be God’s helper in our kid’s lives, and NOT try to be the ruling god of their lives.

The new xylophone has been very well used. As a matter of fact, it travels all over the house now having many tunes played in its crystal-clear ring. All three boys trade off and play it and their little musical talents have begun to grow on their own.  A couple of years have passed since this time and my oldest son has now sparked an interest in piano, something that makes my heart so joyful! I would have never guessed that a toddler instrument could come full circle and strike up passion where impartiality had once ruled. God, the Creator of all little hearts, doesn’t expect us to parent alone. He knows the special things He’s placed inside of our children’s hearts and He knows the perfect way that they will reveal themselves in His perfect time. We just have to remember that His ways are better than ours.