Music

Music moves me.
   
      It's what opens up my soul to the world around, as if my whole being is saying, "THIS is how I feel!"   "THIS is what I'm experiencing!"  "THIS is what I'm unable to say!"

Sometimes it's the words sung, other times it's the accompanying instrumentation, and more often than not, it's the combination of the two.

It's the lovely combination of notes, the sounds produced by the instruments.  The infusion of the Spirit into every single note, every breath taken, every pluck of strings.  It's the power that drives the inspired singer to cry out during a specific word; that's what speaks to me.

It's the divine hidden in the song.
It's the Creator of all things, gifting us with a sound that rings of the heavens.

It's the surprise of keys being changed, bringing a whole new emotion to the awareness.

It's the gift of the Holy God, sharing His ability with us to make something...beautiful.

It's the appreciation for vision, to see the process of putting sounds together to feel what inspiration is.

It's the uncanny combination of electric guitar mixed with primitive drum beating.
     The simplicity of spoken prayer accompanied with simple strings of acoustic guitar.
          The sould-penetrating power of amplification.
               The binding of sound to emotion.

Music brings an intimate awareness of creativity; to pull out of yourself newness, expressions of beauty.

All music speaks to me this way.  To listen to some of the most well-known songs, and hear something new each time.  Listening to music from all over the world, I am moved by the universal desire of all humanity to make music, allowing me to partake in the pain, the rejoicing, the fun, the uncertainty, the bliss... all through music.

It makes me appreciate the Almighty even more, for creating sound, and the ears to hear, and the connection of the two to our souls. 

Music allows me to feel the small-ness of me in all things, and the absolute immensity of God in everything.


Now if you'll excuse me, my favorite song is on.

Into the Woods

Trying to be silent, working under the advantage of early morning fog, which deadens our footsteps.
     At least I think it seems to...

Dodging cobwebs & their residents, avoiding branches in our path.  Looking to the sky, there's now just enough light to distinguish between the treetops and the sky, but no more.

Gazing back at the needle-covered path, trying to see if the beginnings of daybreak are reaching into the depths of the forest, but it is still black as night here on the ground. 

Amber light from the penlight shows just enough of the ground to illuminate the path one foot in front of us, one step at a time. 

The excitement of the hunt ahead, and the anticipation of the day brings beads of sweat to our foreheads and sneaking down my spine.

Around the path, through the campsite, my bearings start to straighten.  Even though I know I can get to where I'm going in the dark, the possibility of tripping over an unseen stump and stopping my fall with a faceful of green briars is enough to force me to keep the light on.

We round the corner into the next section of paths, deeper into the woods, thankful that the fall leaves underfoot are soggy with dew.  Suddenly, a treetop to our left EXPLODES into a rustling, wing-flapping moment of chaos.
     Whatever it was we scared... was HUGE.  As it left the treetop, I could hear the air rushing under its wings...
     one...
          delayed...
               flap...
                    after...
                         delayed...
                                  flap.

It may have very well been a pterodactyl.

I catch my breath, and tell my heart "Chill, it was just a turkey, or a giant owl,... or a dinosaur.", and continue our travels down the path, both of us smirking.

We reach the point where my other half and I part ways for this particular hunt; he climbs into his tree stand, and I cross the rotten log into "no-path land".

I may think I know where I'm going at this point, but in the few minutes since I realized the sky was starting to get lighter, I also travelled downhill and into thicker trees.  The absence of a path definitely does not help, either.

I'm completely reliant on the tiny flashlight I hold in my hands, because when I turned it on, (upside down), the artificial light blinded me.  (This is not starting out too well...)

So I weave my way through the briars on what I'm hoping is a deer path, when I walk through yet another spider web.  I keep forgetting that walking through the woods in the dark demands a different level of focus; I was focusing on the corn pile in the distance.  I should've been focusing on my steps directly in front of me, every few steps re-orienting towards the goal in the distance.  Hey, it works for me.

I remember when I was a kid, (and younger than I am...today) I was terrified of the dark.  It wasn't so much the dark, it was what could've been hiding in the dark. 
     This morning I laugh at that memory, almost aloud.  I'm more worried about being the monster in the dark to the deer we're hunting!

I'm obviously not too worried about spooking the deer, because I bumble my way through the last fifteen feet or so, and climb into my tree stand, pulling my bow up along side of me.  I tied myself to the tree and plop down, quite disgracefully and noisily.

I'm here. 

My breath is hot and humid under my camouflage hood, and my heart feels like it's going to beat right out of my chest.

The noise coming from the woods around me isn't helping; with the humidity in the air, the sweat pouring off me, and the noises surrounding me, I feel like I'm swimming in the world's largest bowl of Rice Krispies. 

The thought makes me laugh, but I'm still a nervous wreck.  So I do the only thing I know to do when I'm feeling anything but peaceful:

Pray.

Well, not so much " pray", really; more like straight-up worship.  Hands in the air and all.

I call on the Lord as my comforter and my peace; I praise Him for being my strength, my joy, and my rock.
     Over and over and over again.

Works every time! 
     I open my eyes to a brighter view, one where I can appreciate the beauty that surrounds me, and see it all as a masterpiece.

When I look at it that way, I don't fear any part of it.

The fog isn't eerie anymore, it's more like a veil - a veil being lifted off a waking planet.

The veil being lifted reveals a morning breeze...a breeze that does NOT work in my favor, but a breeze none-the-less.

I can now see what's making the cereal noises:  as the breeze blows in the treetops, it's dropping fat dewdrops onto the forest floor, onto the leaves below, and onto the crunching underbrush.

In the sparse moments where there's no noise, my eyes become my heightened sensory organ.  I can see the yellow poplar leaves floating from the canopy to the earth below.  When more than one leaf is falling, the crickets are muted out.  But, for just an instant, I watch one single leaf fall, and realize the crash of that leaf in its collision with the ground below... is deafening.

And I praise God for all of it.

The birds coming out of their slumber singing into the new day, the crickets for their serenading, the crows for their "caw-rus" off in the distance.  (Caw-rus?  get it?  crows caw? chorus?  Anyways.)

My heart quickens each time I think I hear footsteps; could that be a deer on the other side of the pine tree I can't see around?

It's almost as if God comforts me, lovingly laughing, as a huge rabbit jumps out into my sight.

Peace reigns once again.

I hear a deer grunt off in the distance, but I don't get the feeling I'll be seeing any today. 

I'm cool with that; I think the Lord had other plans for me this morning.

(Big Exhale) Here we go.

Fear is almost paralyzing me right now. 

The thought of baring my soul; the things I write, the way I write them, what I see and how I see it...
    to have that private, intimate part of me on display, open for criticism, correction, judgement...
                              
 I AM TERRIFIED.

But something inside me, stronger than me, or you, or all of us put together, moves me to do this. 
     Surely, it isn't confidence.    (Jeez, who in the world says "Surely" anymore?)

See?  This is going to be a process for me.  (enter in more doubt...)
        
I'm going to share what moves me.  Sometimes I write, and months later, I'll be hit with new meaning, new understanding.  (Just happened again this morning.)

Maybe somewhere, some way, some one will read this and understand. 
Maybe they'll be inspired. 
Maybe they'll be moved closer to whatever it is in their life they're moving towards. 
Maybe there's one little ol' person in this big ol' world, that these words may connect with.

That's what I'm hoping for, praying for.

But, it's not really about me.  It's more about the grand story, and this is just my little ol' part to play.