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Musical Stirrings
Sing Your song, Singer. Sing Your love song to me.
Sing through the white caps’ shush-hushing, churn-burning. Inspire me to finish the race, to run and not grow weary.
Sing through the red-winged blackbirds’ trills. Soothe my weariness; fill my heart with the harmony of heaven.
Sing through the oak leaves’ crack-crackling in the canopy overhead. Protect and shelter me: russ-rustle, shhhhhhh.
Sing through staccato raindrops’ pattering on the cabin roof. Exhort me with the drilling urgency of a whole orchestra of drumsticks.
Sing as if tomorrow will never come, as if today might suddenly vanish, as if I might come home to You before the sun sets. Sing because I long to hear Your promise of hope.
Sing in my heart, Your strength to impart; sing me a psalm, Your healing balm.
Sing to my tears, sing to my fears; sing with the music of the spheres.
Sing your song, Singer. Sing Your love song to me.
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