cantabile
defined~
in the symphony of life...
He speaks...
"My beloved child, today your heart
wonders how the notes
could possibly be right
you feel anything but graceful and grace~filled
the melody once soaring high
with breathtaking expression
seems now to lie close to the ground
shrouded in fog
dripping tears
in colors of gray
harmonies clash
rhythm strives
against rhythm
you look up
you ask why
you struggle to make sense
of what makes no sense
My child,
I love you
I created you
I knew you from before time
I know you
I am composing the song which is your life
nothing in your song is a mistake
nothing is without purpose
how would you know beauty
was beautiful
if beauty was all you knew?
how would you know joy
if you never felt sorrow?
how could you look in the eyes
of another
and understand
if your song had
not once sung
in that same
place?
seasons in your song have been placed
there by My hand for reasons
sometimes indefinable
the more you struggle against
what My hand is composing
the more you will miss out
on the exquisite tenderness
with which My hand writes and holds
sing, My child,
even when your voice seems lost
even when the sound seems
to fall unheard
remember I am
weaving
blending
intertwining
the melody of your song
with melodies of countless other songs
even when it hurts to sing
you are Mine
as you sing
you will worship
as you worship
you will hear more clearly
you will feel more deeply
your heart will be filled
with peace indescribable
you will be led closer than ever before
to My heart"
"to sing or perform in a
melodious
and graceful style
full
of expression"
a
word in the language of music
a
definition one need not know to experience
a
musical term overflowing
flowing
over with all that is
grace~filled
and graceful
in the symphony of life...
in seasons of heartache
in
the harmonies created by
life songs
brought together
by
the hand of the Composer...
intermingling
blending
weaving
all
supported by
all
held together by
His grace~filled
graceful
handsHe speaks...
"My beloved child, today your heart
wonders how the notes
could possibly be right
you feel anything but graceful and grace~filled
the melody once soaring high
with breathtaking expression
seems now to lie close to the ground
shrouded in fog
dripping tears
in colors of gray
harmonies clash
rhythm strives
against rhythm
you look up
you ask why
you struggle to make sense
of what makes no sense
My child,
I love you
I created you
I knew you from before time
I know you
I am composing the song which is your life
nothing in your song is a mistake
nothing is without purpose
how would you know beauty
was beautiful
if beauty was all you knew?
how would you know joy
if you never felt sorrow?
how could you look in the eyes
of another
and understand
if your song had
not once sung
in that same
place?
seasons in your song have been placed
there by My hand for reasons
sometimes indefinable
the more you struggle against
what My hand is composing
the more you will miss out
on the exquisite tenderness
with which My hand writes and holds
sing, My child,
even when your voice seems lost
even when the sound seems
to fall unheard
remember I am
weaving
blending
intertwining
the melody of your song
with melodies of countless other songs
even when it hurts to sing
you are Mine
as you sing
you will worship
as you worship
you will hear more clearly
you will feel more deeply
your heart will be filled
with peace indescribable
you will be led closer than ever before
to My heart"
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