There’s a sound of Heavenly pouring
Like a rain so tender and frail
It’s more than words or mere lyrics
Or a voice that’s singing a scale.
You know it when once you do hear it
And it causes hard hearts to soon melt
It’s the breath of God by His Spirit
As on earth does Heaven come swell.
It’s the presence of Christ manifesting
With a brokenness He shares with like hearts
A knowing His grief as He listens
To a worship that is ritually brought.
Where the altar is silent of repentance
And the sorrow for sin never comes
It’s a worship of words and mere habits
Yet no power to cause one “undone.”
It’s the sound of Him entering the room
A fresh oil to cover and refresh
It’s the coming of Christ in His Glory
That wrecks sullen hearts to reflect.
It’s the tearful beauty of hearing
Him whisper as He’s next to you
Reminding you of His sweet promise
And He will never forsake you.
It’s the sound of death and complacency
No gut wrenching praise from the depths
It’s His grief of hearts with far worship
Yet praises still flow from the lips.
At times the Spirit seems cruel, yes..
For it can be harsh to but hear
The sounds which Christ lay before us
Are the sounds we must learn to hear.
May 1, 2016
