There are times that I just need to see a familiar, welcoming face. No words need to be said, just the presence of someone who really knows me. For just a few moments in time, I know that I am loved. Life is good, and all will be well.
My oldest son drove from Santa Fe to come and visit today. He had no motive, no agenda. He opened the door to my office and smiled. What he didn’t know was that I needed to see him, as much as he needed to see me. We talked, laughed, yes, we even sang a little. Praise be to God for genetics, because our timbre is very similar.
For us, blending is not a problem, we get each other musically. To sing with my son is as important today as it was at the very beginning of his life when I carried him to the warming table right after his birth. He was crying and screaming at the top of his lungs, and I started singing a song to him that I sang to Cazandra’s stomach every night. All of the sudden he stopped crying and turned to me as if to say, “Okay Daddy, you really get me.” And we have never stopped making music.
Today in the wilderness, I am blessed beyond imagination for the lives that I have around me that remind me that I am loved beyond my own understanding. Thanks to the people that sing the song that raises me out of the darkness to embrace the light. They sing the heart songs that remind me that I am a child of God, blessed with a fierce love of music and music-making that begin in the deepest parts of my soul. Their songs set me free.
From a Pastor's Point of View 