Close your eyes. Open your ears. Hear the song given to my heart.
Do you hear the sad saxophone squeezing out its cry in the night? Looking for someone to hear it, to appreciate it.
The sad saxophone is me as a child. Nights were always lonely and scary for me. I think of nighttime when I think of a saxophone.
A song that sweeps in so slowly, humbly making its entrance. Soft whispers from the violins, humming almost timidly.
Violins humming timidly was me right before my rebellious years. I was a humble girl before sin came in and puffed me with pride…which led to years of drug abuse and loss.
Are your eyes still closed? Is your heart listening to the song my heart’s been given? For now there is a bold crashing of the confident, cymbals as they brilliantly change the course of the speed. No sound can compare, white light reflects off of them as they collide.
Maybe you see God as the drums setting the tempo in everything. Or maybe He’s a harp to you. But for me, He is the cymbals because their sound is always distinctive and showstopping! Which is what He did when He drew me to Him.
88 keys stepping in timeless rhythm. Marching, climbing dutifully. The silence in between each note filled with the graceful harp, stunning and wise.
88 keys are the piano. Have you ever sat in a small room with someone playing the piano live in front of you? Just the piano, no singing, no guitar. It takes your breath away. It’s the lion of the jungle in the orchestra to me. The piano is my husband. He is marching and climbing dutifully because he is faithful to me and our family to be the very best of providers.
In between the love he has shown me, there are silent times when I need wisdom that I draw from the mother God has given me in my mother-in-law. She, like the harp, is graceful in her movement, stunning in her timeless beauty and wise in her love for her God and family.
Can you hear the happy flute flutter by? Tiptoeing it’s way to the clarity of the clarinets. Their sound so clear and conscise.
The happy flute fluttering by is my church family as they are happy people who are busy in God’s work. The clarinet is the infallible word of God…clear and conscise.
The French horn making it’s sorrowful, confused cry…clings to the tempo to try to keep up. Little does it know it soon has a solo that can only be filled by it’s distinct sound.
The french horn is my 24 yr old Autistic daughter. Her sound is sorrowful and confused because of her lonely years growing up, wondering why others wouldn’t accept her. She has spent many years of her life clinging to the tempo of those around her, trying to keep up. But as she’s getting older and maturing, her time to shine is upon her as she becomes confident in herself. She is blossoming into a woman of God.
Along comes a piccalo, such an amuzing piece. Never could a piccolo make a sad song.
The picalo is my 9 year old daughter who is happy when she rises until she lays her head on her pillow. She is never down for long. She is driven to happiness, and making others happy. A rare beauty is she in her little life…just like the rare beauty of the sound of a picalo.
Lastly, the long strum of a cello sets the tone in the background refusing to be ignored.
Oftentimes the cello is used to keep time in the background of a song. My little 6 year old may be little in age and height, but her personality and strength are big like a cello. Her presence is big and can fill a room with all 3 feet of her.
As my life goes on, my prayer is my Heart’s song will be longer with grandchildren and sons-in-laws. Who are the people in your life that sing to your heart? What instrument would they be?