Beautiful Things / Kiss the Son

Kiss the Son by Brenda Bogart

We've all heard this adage: music is the soundtrack of our lives. As true as that is, awhile back I got crystal clear revelation that our lives are actually a song. I've come to believe that each of us has a song written about and/or for us. The songwriters doesn't always don't know who it's for and in fact they may think they're writing about and for themselves. But there are times when they are penning for and about someone else, they just don't know exactly who.

When I first heard "Kiss the Son" by Kevin Prosch in a small home-based intercession prayer meeting I was absolutely transfixed. I don't know how, but I just knew this song is...me.

Right around the same time frame, I also heard Gungor's "Beautiful Things" and something deep inside of me connected with it and I said "whoop, there it is."

What's the connection between these two songs? Why do they make my heart sing and shore up my identity? The words shed some light. Pain? Broken? Change? Ashes? Garden? Fields? Chaos? Slay? Beautiful? Rose? New? Opened?

I cannot quite explain why the Father gave me this revelation or why He chose two such gorgeous and profound songs to sing over me. All I know is when I listen to these songs my heart becomes almost instantly pliable in His hands. Hope springs up in me. And I bow down and Kiss the Son.

KISS THE SON

When you've been broken, broken to pieces
And Your heart begins to faint
'cause you don't understand
And when there is nothing to rake from the ashes
And you can't even walk onto the fields of praise
But I bow down and kiss the Son
Let the praise of the Lord be in my mouth
Well, though You slay me, I will trust You, Lord
When the rock falls, falls upon You
And you get ground to dust, no music for your pain.
You open the windows, the windows of heaven.

And then You opened me and You crushed me like a rose.

BEAUTIFUL THINGS
All this pain I wonder if I'll ever find my way?

I wonder if my life could really change at all?

All this earth could all that is lost ever be found?
Could a garden come up from this ground at all?

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of the dust

You make beautiful things

You make beautiful things out of us

All around hope is springing up from this old ground
Out of chaos life is being found in You

You make me new, You are making me new

You make beautiful things
(You make me new)
You make beautiful things out of the dust
(You are making me new, making me new)

You make me new, You are making me new

#MonthfulOfMusic #HoodMom

war on grumbling day thirty one

Day 31 

Today I'm thankful that I hear God's still small voice. #WarOnGrumbling #40DaysOfThanksgiving

I can hear God speak, but I sometimes go through periods where I willfully avoid sitting down to converse with Him. 

I'm sick today, a situation the Lord often uses to break in to my life. When I'm ill, I admittedly feel weak and vulnerable, and unable to give in to my usual distractions. I'm more prone to lie still enough to hear His voice.

I was in a friend's car this afternoon and she had to run in to her school to pick something up. She popped in a worship CD before leaving the car, which prompted me to journal about a painful experience that I had an epiphany about in the last 24 hours. All of a sudden in the middle of my tear-stained written rant -- without even the slightest provocation by me -- Papa cut in and started to speak really clearly. His short sweet feedback was eminently revelatory and within the span of a few minutes things made more sense.

And it makes me wonder. Why do I avoid spending the time to hear the voice of the Most High God of the universe, the One who created me and loves me and is so evidently for me? 

Then He said, “Go out, and stand on the mountain before the Lord.” And behold, the Lord passed by, and a great and strong wind tore into the mountains and broke the rocks in pieces before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind; and after the wind an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake; and after the earthquake a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire; and after the fire a still small voice. (1 Kings 19:11-12)

We will see the look on Your face // 
We will hear the tone in Your voice // 
And we will be changed as we behold You