It was an idyllic day.

Ferns overhead, a tropical plant waving gently…

My hair, just washed, blow-drying in the breeze and bleaching under the brilliant, warm sunshine…

A dream-come-true table and chair set from a yard sale, refurbished from its faded black to a fresh white…

It’s a nearly perfect afternoon, to any casual onlooker.

My heart knows though, that the aura of perfection is only temporal…

Truly, there are little glimpses of Eden to be found in this world, and that setting was liberally sprinkled with them.

God sends us just enough hints of what is to come, to give us strength to keep on walking.

But still, the reality is: we’re not Home yet.

This is not Eden, here with the plants, the sunshine… the tears.

And my heart, my aching, tender heart, pouring itself out through my fingers on the keys.

Because sometimes, words just can’t explain.

I try. I love using words.

I tell God all about it… to the best of my ability… but sometimes, words fail.

They’re not the language of the heart…

And when my heart is crying out to God, words aren’t always enough.

That’s why I’m so grateful that where words fail, music speaks.

And I can let my fingers drift over the keys, capturing the depth, the fullness, the beauty, the richness of everything in my heart.

No sheet music needed. It’s a song I’ll never play exactly this way again. There are no lyrics.

But it holds a raw kind of beauty, because each chord is held in the deepest places of my heart.

It’s my heartsong…

A heartcry…

Which the Father hears as a prayer.

When words lack the adequacy to express all that’s felt within our souls, music captures the depth of each emotion and wings our heartcries to the Father.

Jackie, May 2023