05 February 2009

in no time at all.

it's crazy how time flies. i was just reading a blog from about this time last year (Secret Love Notes) .....i remember it being a difficult time. i don't remember all the details of difficulties, but i remember the lessons i was learning...i remember standing outside, waiting for the sun to peer over the horizon. it was egypt and it was cold. i was tired and exhausted. i didn't want to teach. i didn't want to talk. i just wanted to be warmed. i wanted to be comforted. standing behind the little make-shift snack shop, the lyrics to a song that i still haven't listened to ran through my mind...i had memorized the lyrics after reading them....but still haven't heard it sung. anyway, the lyrics are nice......but in those few moments of feeling cold, tired, and empty, that's all they were, lyrics.

then as the sun began to shine, i closed my eyes. i only had a few minutes, and i knew that if i stood very still, the sun would do what it's good at...warming. and it did. it wrapped its rays around me. and that song began to play in my mind....in my soul....and i began to hear it all around me.

part of me doesn't ever want to hear this song played. for me, it has a melody that no instruments can play, no voice can sing....it's like a verse in our love song....and today, i heard Him humming the tune....and i realized, i haven't been listening. today, i stopped. i stood very still. i listened....

2 comments:

Amanda Sue said...

that's beautiful and very affecting. I'm still thinking about...

Dulcinator said...

there you are! i missed you on here. oh, dear friend. He does sing us so many a song if only we will listen to His perfect, melodious voice. beauty. thank you. miss you!

About Me

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Hawaii, United States
trying to define yourself is like trying to bite your own teeth.
O, dreadful is the check — intense the agonyWhen the ear begins to hear and the eye begins to see;When the pulse begins to throb, the brain to think again,The soul to feel the flesh and the flesh to feel the chain. - Emily Bronte, "The Prisoner