The Word for Writers
' ... I knew you.'
" ... I knew you."
It becomes, at times, slightly aggravating to have so much creative energy and no way to express it.
I am a painter without enough talent to paint what I see -- divine, most vivid, colorful dreams.
I am a composer without enough talent to compose what I hear -- the steady heartbeat of the bass drum, the dance of snares, the passion of woodwinds and tender melody of flutes, the solid confirmation of brass, the cry of strings, and the joy of bells.
I am a dance choreographer with no formal training. But my heart is so filled with worship that I cannot sit idly by and let the dance die.
I am an architect without building materials. So I live in a multitude of dream castles richly furnished with love and lightly scented with roses, mountain rains and spice.
I am an author without enough talent to write what I feel, though try I must, or grieve for the loss of a thousand unsung, never-materialized masterpieces that float in and out between my ears and slowly ebb to nothingness.
But I do lose the masterpieces. And they become, though beautiful at one time, mere noise. Where do they come from? Why are they? For what purpose do I see and hear if I cannot lay them out to be seen and heard? Who hears and who sees these things? Are they even mine? No! They belong to the Master Painter, the One who sings over me, the Author and Finisher of my faith.
A still, small voice filters its way through the noise, “ ... in My image, even from your mother’s womb.” An old song becomes new. The darkness is painted light in an ancient love song and the piano dances with me.
© Joyce Pool
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Very,very nice endeed''
Amazing writer! What a beautiful piece. Wendy
You will blossom one day. Your masterpiece will appear one day. God is preparing you for it. The fruit will ripen one day. The flower will blossom one day. Wait for God's opportune time. His Time is the best time. His Will is best for you. God bless, Miriam.
Joyce, your words never cease to move me. They flow a heavenly balm upon the wounds of my own questioning, my own seeking ... and the renewed promise that in Him, all truly is well.
Treava, Because God has gifted you to be all of the above you write about; I can see the beauty you paint and the songs you sing. I can feel the warmth of your soul and the inspirations your feel. I can touch the heart of God in your expressions and I can gain strength from your perseverance. Iâ€™m not keeping score here but it seems to me you are quite a beautiful child of God. Praise the Lord for his gift of you to me and Trish.
Wow, Treava! What you wrote here is beautiful. Every talents that you have will blossom, you just have to wait for God's instruction. You are not just an author, painter, architect, dancer and many other roles, but you are God's beautiful masterpiece who is a blessing to many.
Treava, I hear the songs that you sing and am moved by the words that you pen. I can feel the dance and the artistry. You convey it to others and stir others to use their gifts through the Spirit's leading.Thank you for blessing us with your gifts and drawing us to join you before the Throne.