When I listen to songs, there is always a line or two that will kind of jump out at me. In the song I shared on Sunday, the lines are:
If I had no voice
If I had no tongue
I would dance for You like the rising sun
The other day I was trying to think of why I like those lines. I think it’s the imagery. I’ve never thought to liken the rising of the sun to a dance, but it’s a beautiful thought. Just like the thought of Jesus being the very song we sing.
When I was young, probably six or seven, I would make up little songs to Jesus. Miniature worship songs, I guess. I would sit out in the backyard or jump on our tiny trampoline while composing — far from the earshot of anyone who might hear and laugh at the awkward rhyming or lack of meter. The song wasn’t for them anyways.
My daughter does that now. From time to time I’ll hear her singing softly, and when I ask her what she’s singing, she’ll smile shyly and say that she’s just making up songs.
Even if they do lack meter. Or are more prose than poetry.
It’s all about the heart, and I think, deep inside, something in the heart cries out to honor the Creator. Through song. Through art. Through music. Through dance. Through any form of expression. That’s what we were made to do, and that’s why we feel that sense of fulfillment and completion when we do write that poem or paint that picture or compose that song that magnifies God.
Even the heavens themselves are created to perform their own celestial dance before Him. The dance of the rising sun is how Colton Dixon put it.
The earth too:
“Let the rivers clap their hands;
Let the hills be joyful together before the Lord” (Psalm 98:8)
Maybe if we all composed a piece of that sweeping symphony, played the part we are purposed to play, the world would be a different place. More melodious.
And we would be different too. Knowing each of us has a special and unique way to lift our hearts to the Creator, and fulfill His purpose — your purpose — on earth.