The Composer

There are certain transcendent places in the human experience that words cannot go. As much as I love words, it's true.  It's why movies have scores, why brides have processionals. Words can come close, wrap around that sense, paint an image of it, even evoke degrees of the same emotion. But alone, they are just not there.

Which is why I'm thankful that God is not only a poet, but a composer. Because those same words, when entwined with a melody, become greater than the tangible and draw us outside of the explainable realm. Some melodies are so potent they don't even need words to call a soul from its confines. I love those ones.

I bought Josh Groban's CD yesterday. He has the kind of voice that makes the angels hush each other to better listen when he sings. There are some songs where I listen, and I just want to yell, "Yes! That's it! Exactly!" But I don't because I want to hear more of the song. He's not the only one, there are other singers whose work rings deeply true, but he's an old favorite.

Emotion is a strange thing. It can be winged and beautiful, the stuff that makes up our memories, or it can be a shroud. Either way, it is too big for a mere body, and when I get that sense that my chest might explode for trying to contain it, music is the key that unlocks it and sets me free.

And God knew that. He knew that a life that was fully describable would be dull. An existence we comprehend completely would play flat. It is the mystery, the intangible powerful elements, that reflect Him. That reveal His beauty, a glimpse of His vastness, and His ability to read the emotions themselves imprinted on our hearts, without words. He made song, he set it free, he whispered in the ears of composers the blend of simple notes that would reach inside a soul, he crafted voices rich and true enough to bear the melody.

Thank you Lord, for your vastness, your intimacy. That you see hearts and souls and the beauty that defies our human words. Thank you for song. And, of course, for words. All my love!