Skip to main content

. . . All You Have to do is Listen . . .

I just got done watching the movie August Rush.  Something about it takes my words away and makes me want to replace them with music.  It's like the music just swipes the words out of my mouth.
I know it's not a true story.  I know that the little boy probably wasn't playing because it never does really show his face and his hands playing guitar in the same shot. But something about it makes me think, what is stopping me, or anybody from being a genius.  Not a book genius per se, although sometimes people can become amazing because of what's inside them.  I mean gifts. 

What are the bricks that build the walls that box us in? What stops us from taking just one step past the boundaries that people have laid for us in the past?
If you write, what's stopping you from making the most spectacular gift there ever was to be written or read? 
If you're a musician, what's stopping you from composing the most beautiful symphony man's ears have heard yet? 
If you're a singer what's stopping you from singing out what has been flooding your heart? 
If you're an artist, what's stopping you from painting another Sistene Chapel?  Or the scene you see through only your eyes that you know words could never describe justly.  
If it's dancing, what's stopping you from letting your heart explode into motions?
 
What stops me from writing what I hear? 
It's all around me.  All I have to do is listen.  
 When I ask why some people hear things and some don't, I truly believe the answer is that some are listening and some aren't.  Some have the ears to hear, and others, unfortunately, were not blessed with such a gift.  I believe once you start hearing or knowing how to hear your music, whatever it is, there is nothing stopping you from doing it all for the glory of God. 
I may go write a song ;)

Popular posts from this blog

Post Prompts I

I googled blog post prompts just for fun and found a website with a whole bunch.  Rather than writing whole posts on some of the topics, I decided to do interview style responses. Write about the first time you broke the law. When I was 4, stole a handful of grass seed from a store. Felt awful but never admitted to it untill way later. They knew I was lying but never prosecuted (is it even possible to prosecute a 4 year old?).  I discarded the evidence onto their lawn as soon as I got out of the store (I guess that was sort of smart).  Why grass seed? Good question.  Your favorite vacation spot or place that you've traveled to. An Island in Malaysia called Redang. Everything about that place looked like those tropical photos you secretly doubt the existence of.  Straight up B-E-A-U-tiful. Write about the passing of a loved one. My Grandma died 2 years ago on the 4th of July (ironic, don't you think?).  For me, the whole experience wa...
Read more

From desiringGod Blog

From a blog I follow called  desiringGod .  The whole website is full of truth.  I encourage you to check it out.  I've enlarged and boldened sentences I think are especially well said.   Not Your Mother's Kind of Tolerance by Jonathan Parnell | August 2, 2012   Views that advocate same-sex marriage are free to exist, but they are wrong. Now, stop. Read the above sentence again. Are you okay with it? Chances are how you feel about that statement indicates your understanding (or misunderstanding) of tolerance. D. A. Carson, in his book, The Intolerance of Tolerance , explains that Western culture isn't exactly firing on all cylinders when it comes to knowing what tolerance is. He distinguishes two different concepts of this word: old tolerance and new tolerance. Old tolerance — that is, before the onslaught of postmodernism — defines the concept as to "accept the existence of different views." New tolerance, however, defines tolerance ...
Read more

We Meet Again

Well, to say that it feels weird to be here again is an understatement. This is a little emotional for me and I'll try to explain why. Firstly, it's been a while since the last time I wrote here. When I typed the address into the search bar, I was actually surprised that a 404 page didn't show up and that, instead, I saw a familiar title and design come up on the screen. There it was - my own writing, published on a web page I undoubtedly spent hours adjusting and tweaking until it was just right, down to the blue and green squares I painted  by hand, scanned into a computer and digitized the old fashioned way with....wait for it.....*Microsoft Paint*.  Illustrator? Pshht. Who needs that when you've got the grandmother of graphic design tools for FREE on your receptionist job work computer? (sarcasm, of course. Adobe, baby, I love you.) But even the details and designs of this page speak to the reason why this is emotional for me. All of the things about this blog that ...
Read more