I am a song. I will let you be a voice…many…a choir…one voice with Jesus. Singing.


Born in the heart of a soul touched by God, I need not have left heaven for you.


Penned maybe through tears, but surely by joy, a gift only given when used.


A voice gives me life, a choir adorns my spirit. I am a song.


I am David and his blessed son. I am poetry and melody and truth.


Discipline learns me, commitment hones me, and my best is not given without it.


A voice enjoys me, a choir raptures me. I am a song.


Teaching harmony and unity and love, sometimes hard to be fully swept in.


A costly gift, my Creator’s wish, for those who would offer to sing.


A voice speaks to Him, a choir shouts His name. I am a song.


My will is to bless, my unction to praise, I carry the gospel to many,


To magnify Him through voices on end, bringing God’s Spirit closer to men.


A voice enjoys me, a choir inhabits me. I am a song.


Conceived in the light of eternity’s dawn, I sprang forth from His noble finger


To mirror His soul, to shadow His love, to conquer and win faithful singers.


A voice blesses angels, a choir begets glory. I am a song. [Choir Song]


Maybe I sometimes take my relationship with Christ for granted. I fall asleep and love loses its passion. I have become too familiar, too callous, too spoiled about our relationship. But His Spirit bears witness with my spirit and my heart awakens. Something is wrong my heart tells me. Something was lost while I slept. Then the voice, “open to me”, but I delay, I excuse. Sleep was pleasant to my flesh. I struggle awake and thinking it will be like it was, like a sleep-walker I open the door. But He is not there. Where is He? Where did He go? He was always there before.


I seek. I seek help from others who cannot help because they never knew Him. I go where He is not asking of those who have no knowledge. While I seek where He is not, I am beaten, robbed and scourged. My friends ask, “What is the big deal?” “Who is He anyway?” “What is wrong with you?”


And then I remember and I tell them who He is. “He is altogether lovely,” I say. And their own hearts are stirred and they want to meet Him. All of a sudden, I know where He is because I remember who He is. I have learned something. Before I said, “He is mine.” Now I say, “I am His,” and He is doing what He must do and I trust Him completely.


[The Song of Solomon]