Hind's Feet

This is a song I'm working on in the beginning stages. I don't know if I really like it yet. The lyrics came out of some Scripture reading I was doing tonight, but I haven't got to the piano yet to fit them to a melody. I've mixed Isaiah 55 with Habakkuk 3.

Hind's Feet

This mountain is high, there’s snow all around
The rain chills my bones and I can’t see the ground
My feet they feel lame, they’re blistered and weary
I don’t know why you called me to come up here

So give me hind’s feet
To walk in your ways
And though I am thirsty
I’ll still sing your praise
Your thoughts lead me up
Though I don’t understand
I’m weak in the knees
And too fearful to stand

When I heard you call me I hoped I might find
The blossoming fig tree, but I’ve left it behind
The path leads through thorns, and the nettles they sting
But you beckon me higher and ask me to sing

So give me hind’s feet
To walk in your ways
And though I am thirsty
I’ll still sing your praise
Your thoughts lead me up
Though I don’t understand
I’m weak in the knees
Please help me to stand

Though I can’t see you, I know you are near
Your word of compassion falls soft in my ears
And somehow my feet find their place on this mountain
And the cold stony desert turns into a fountain

So give me hind’s feet
To walk in your ways
As the mountains break forth
Into shouts of high praise
Your thoughts lead me up
And the trees clap their hands
Your strength is what gives me
The courage to stand


~lg

talking trees

I wish I knew what the trees were saying. Either they’re mumbling in their dreams or I’m sleepwalking.

Last night we went for a walk in the dark, wrapped in a blanket, just to stand on a little wooden bridge and hear the stream pass beneath. I’ve always loved the sound of running water, and it is one of my dreams to live next to a river or stream. The first time I heard Handel’s Water Music as a child, my imagination was captured and I have since associated music with water. Every waterway has its own song, some bright with sparkling hope and others darkly mournful. I felt the song of the stream last night, but not through my ears. I really do think it was singing, words I wish I knew, words I think I believe I will one day understand, if all of creation is to be renewed.

We sat on a bench under a tree, a whispering tree, probably with spiders threatening to spin webs in my hair at any moment. For once I wasn’t nervous about the bugs, just happy to know there are still places where trees are comforting in the dark. Of course, having my husband beside me also lessened the fear of scurrying creatures. But they are creatures, too, we all are, the stream and spider and I alike, and on quiet nights you can hear our sighing. There is something yet to come, this I know at least, something that involves our little lives now in a grand story.

There are nights I feel rather like a woman from another time, thrust into the passing lane of the 401, from a time when the world was understood differently, when there was more magic and fear and awe. Those sorts of things help me understand deeper, they send out their tendrils and grasp the mysterious gospel, pulling it into dark heart soil where it groans and grows, till I can almost make out the whispers in the leaves above me.

~lg

acres of freedom

"It's ok to be lonely as long as you're free."
Rich Mullins

There are some things in life you have to hold lightly... when the heart is free from unnecessary encumbrances, there is an acreage that opens up within. In this field the wind blows both fierce and sweet, but there is a price to pay. Breathing this air makes me lonely sometimes, but loneliness isn't always a bad thing, not if it comes out of obedience, not if it works a deeper salvation. These acres of freedom are ripe for exploration, the question is, am I brave enough to go?

~lg