My Own Song

It’s a rhythm I’ve heard all my life.

Steady, strong, telling me just how things are supposed to be in this familiar world.

A rhythm I should be able to play without even thinking by now.

I tap my foot, trying to get the tempo just right.

But I can’t.

The beat goes on around me…louder, stronger, more overwhelming w ith

each passing minute.

I listen carefully and try to imitate it, but I stumble yet again.

All the rules of this music…I know. I’ve spent my life

Singing it.

Loving it.

Living it.

But somewhere in the middle, I began to dance to another rhythm. For five years, I lived, moved, and breathed this new cadence of life.

I embraced it as my new song, one the Father had given me

To sing.

To love.

To live.

And then,

the song changed again.

The drums became louder.

The tempo picked up speed.

And I no longer feel as if h

ave a place among this chorus in which I used to play a part.

I wait, listen, and sometimes…I try. I’ll tap my foot again to see if maybe I’ve found this old rhythm again.

I don’t have it today…I may never have it again.

Maybe God is giving me my own song…one that goes against what those around me are playing.

And it’s up to me what I do with it.


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