That thing which moves my entire life, lifts me from pure carnality to spiritual actuality, freeing me from the constraints of worry, stress, anxiety, fear. Those chains that would tie one to the core of the earth, scrunched and pulled and weighted.
The hardest places for songs to birth, and yet, the most necessary for freeing the captives and healing the diseased.
Tune and melody and harmony, synchronized in unified voice and strain, a trinity that transcends all that would cage it, loosing the locks of everyone around.
This is song.
More than just music and words and carefully penned notes.
Song is when the depths of spirit and soul collide, quake, and burst into the realm of known, flying on wings of emotion poured, propelled by the breeze of deliverance, shouting its freedom to the world.
Even songs of pain, brokenness, devastation, anger, envy, loss… all a liberated cry from the womb of its author.
A cry that resonates with the brokenness, devastation, anger, envy, loss… the pain of everyone imprisoned… lifting them from their prison and giving voice and melody to what is too hard to say… where words alone are inadequate.
Song lifts us higher and higher, until we lift our eyes and find the eyes of the Composer.
The great Maker and Creator, who sends His song throughout the earth to heal, free, rescue, pull-out, deliver.
The Song that began in eternity, past and future, with our names in the chorus and His purpose in the verse, sung boldly, confidently, powerfully.
The Song that won’t be silenced.
It lifts my head, wraps me in a melodic embrace, makes my cacophony beautiful… somehow.
Bids me come and take up my stand… as musician? As soloist? As choir member? Each has a place in the song of Glory, sung not just with training, ability, or skill… but with passion and hope.
The Song of the Redeemed.