Quiet of the Night

Psalm 42: 8  By day the Lord directs His love, at night His song is with me-- a prayer to the God of my life.

It's O dark  thirty, I awaken from a sad dream or memory. I cannot go back to sleep, regrets of life surface. 

Cares of this world rise to the surface of my mind like bubbles arising in a pond. 

I arise, grumbling, weary, and walk out into the living room where the Word is open on the coffee table. 

The wind is soft through the chimes, a little soft music of rain. 

The cats are stirring around me, one thinks I will let him out the door early. But no, there are coyotes outside.  

Why the troubling thoughts? I read a few verses out loud softly, so as not awaken anyone else. 

My recent favorites Job 42 and Isaiah 42.  I speak them out loud to find my focus, to find the garden gate. 

I push through the troubling thoughts with prayers of forgiveness, with prayers of grace, releasing to each one pictured in my mind. 

Some family, some friends, some distant faces in the news. I speak a word of blessing over them. Bless those who curse you, pray for them and bless them.

Lord, would you send someone to release a word of grace to each one, a word of encouragement. 

A word of redemption,  a word of restoration and release to them a heart for new beginnings. 

May they encounter your radiant countenance. 

Its like pushing through over grown vines which are blocking the gateway. 

I am pressing through, then I begin to pray in the Spirit. Part of me is wondering why I need to be awake at O dark  thirty; yet I have this wonderful sense that someone is listening, someone is waiting behind the garden gate. 

Someone very special.You are listening and it is palpable. It is wonderful. Oh that everyone would know this joy.... you are listening. You are waiting for me to press through.

Then the movement of your compassion flows, I am still outside the garden gate, yet the flow is drawing me closer. 

I picture in my mind's eye, each one I desire to bless and pray for. 

Soon, I don't really know when it happens, I am at your feet placing each loved one or stranger in your arms.

Without even noticing I am humming an enchanting melody. Nothing old or known, its new to this moment, then I am whistling the tune. 

Suddenly the cat is straddling between my knees and the coffee table with a questioning look, what are you doing whistling? 

Laughter and oops- I better be quiet so as not to waken anyone. Sorrow has been turned to joy. Burden has been turned to light. Regret has been turned to rejoicing. 

I haven't actually seen the Lord (except in my minds eye as I gave Him my burdens); 

but His song is reaching out, touching me, embracing me. 

He has heard me and is singing back through the wellspring within my own heart. 

It was so quiet outside with the soft wind chimes and rain. 

Yet, on the inside, I was loud and clanging when I awoke. As I pushed through to the garden gate, my heart has become serene and quieted by your song. 

The song of the Lord is real, it is a provision, a promise for each one to claim, to possess.

Its yours to sing and yours to connect with His heart. It is a love language He has given because He is the Song of Songs.

And you will sing as on the night you celebrate a holy festival; 

your hearts will rejoice as when people go up with flutes to the mountain of the Lord, 

to the Rock of Israel. 

The Lord will cause men to hear His majestic voice. Isaiah 30:29,30