Oh, Father, You have hemmed me about and set me in a solitary place. The divorce left me so alone, so stripped--even of the music ministry that has sustained me so many years. And yet You are always with me...
My dear one,
Did I not promise to make you My song? I know how great a loss you feel since necessity forced you to sell your synthesizer. But I am now training you to make melody in more humble ways, with your thoughts, your stillness, your patient waiting.
Few on earth will recognize this music. But know that all heaven welcomes the irresistible melodies of your yielded soul. The lovely strains of your willing relinquishments, the harmonies of your many small acts of service are sounding clearly in My courts. Do you not thrill with joy as We dance to the rhythm of your obedient footsteps?
Take heart, daughter. Do not long for days gone by. For not only are you My song, but I AM your song. Keep your eyes on My face, and you will receive a fullness in your soul beyond the most glorious sounds earth has ever known.
"...for Yahweh Elohim is my strength and my song; He also is become my salvation.
Exquisite writing, Sherry. Lately, I've been thinking that perhaps we "talk too much" in prayer. Listening, instead, can be a better time of communion with our precious Shepherd, as you demonstrate, here. Thank you!