Ah…there’s a gentle whiffling sound of rain greeting overhead when I patter from bed to bath this barely sky-lit dawn, set the tap for soaking, slip into warmth and peaceful awakening. And in this brief breath between Good Morning, Lord and work of my day, the light rain is a joyful harbinger of spring – finally on the brink – rippling softly across my words of worship.
When suddenly, into my mind a familiar melody comes a whisperin’...
Humming, putting my own praise to this wisp of song, I’m trying to recall the true words. Because when music steals into these moments, like fingers across harp strings, it so often feels like the Father’s oh so still voice speaking answer to my call. Bidding me to hear a message winged from His heart to mine.
I roll different words of exaltation round on my tongue…but none seem… quite… right. It’s like I’m just…almost…touching…them. Trying to catch His echo with slippery hands. But like a butterfly note from a flute, it hovers and flits, elusive. Until one fragment lights on my soul… and stays.
And in my spirit I hear the sweet tones of a voice I’ve known from days when we used to gather for evenings of praise…lifting hearts and spirits…in that little room off the church on the way. Times brimming over with His warm presence and the guitar of a lovely lady who wrote and sang of having “My Father’s eyes…”
Yes! I think. That has to be it!
Readying for work, no time now to search for that CD. But in this age of anything at my fingertips, I log on and google… Jamie Owens Collins and the only lyrics I can recall… My Jesus, I love thee…
And there is this reminder of Easter beauty… welling tears of love, wellspring within me, Oh, I hear His Spirit, feel the anointing of holy oil flowing across recording when I listen, join in…listen again… thanking Him for this refreshing perfume of His presence to signify the start of my day.
And maybe… to share here with you…too.
Opening my window shade upon the now budding light of morn, I catch the first robin alighting the delicate and bare-branched dogwood. He looks a bit bewildered there… perched between snowy lines and breath-stealing frosty air, mist encroaching on his hopes.
But the swelling of that proud red vest to spring cheers me. It is nearly here!
Oh, I hear Him call…Close your eyes and drink in this hymn to Resurrection’s Love:
Spring flowers are in blossom all over.
The whole world’s a choir – and singing!
Spring warblers are filling the forest with sweet arpeggios.
~ Song of Solomon, 2:12 ,The Message
© Pam Depoyan
Sharing with: Sunday Stillness with Janis Cox
Trillium photo: http://greatlakesphototours.com