A blanket of grey obscures the sun this morning, but there is a hint of a promise that the sun may poke through at any moment.
As I walked, I sang my praises to God, aware that I was adding my voice to the chorus already raised by the birds. Just one more voice, blending into the rest. Indistinguishable. Loud or soft. Off key or harmonious. A cacophony or a chorus, depending on your graciousness.
But to God, it isn’t a cacophony nor a chorus. He hears every individual voice, and each one is precious to him. He loves to hear a joyful sound, a voice raised in gratitude to him for who he is, and for all he has done. A voice raised in joy for the gift of life, for the miracle that is in itself.
If a voice is silent, he misses it. He longs to hear every voice singing out to him. “For the Lord takes delight in his people.” (Psalm 149) “Let everything that has breath praise the Lord.” (Psalm 150)
God is so good. He is so loving. Even when I sing off key. Even if the song is one of sorrow, or regret, or pain. He longs to hear my voice. He longs to hear yours.
It may look like there is a blanket of grey obscuring God from view, but just wait. He is about to poke through, probably when you least expect it.
No comments:
Post a Comment