A fire burning, smoke rising through the sixty year old brick chimney. I watch the quiet activity in my home and notice the reflection of the flames dancing in the brass ash-screen. And I listen. Listen to the music. Christmas music. The Little Drummer Boy. Something catches in my throat every time I hear this song.
I played my drum for Him
Pa rum pum pum
I played my best for Him
Pa rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Then He smiled at me
Pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my drum.
Pa rum pum pum
I played my best for Him
Pa rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Rum pum pum pum
Then He smiled at me
Pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my drum.
My heart softens, an indefinite longing opens wide. Is the longing for God? It feels like a spiritual longing. A longing for something beyond what I see, hear, feel, taste, and touch. A longing for something beyond my ability to describe the longing.
No comments:
Post a Comment