Yet God has made everything beautiful for its own time. He has planted eternity in the human heart, but even so, people cannot see the whole scope of God’s work from beginning to end. Ecc 3:11 (NLT)
Ecc 3:11 – PART TWO
Part of the ‘counting down the days’ until ‘something’ happens, the idea that there has to be more than what we’re experiencing right now, is hardwired into the fabric of every human being. There’s an eternal thread weaved through us all… A connection to another world, another time and space…
Our Maker left His mark within us. A beacon, a homing light. I feel it when the stars are shining, when the earth is warm, and the ocean is raging. This eternal thread, hidden yet unavoidable, rides upon the melodies of life and sings into our hearts, making them yearn for something at once familiar and strange.
Eternity in the heart of EVERY man and woman, the fingerprint of God, the way home…
Below is an incredible poem written about this tension, I hope it touches your heart like it does ours.
MUSIC
by Anne Porter
When I was a child
I once sat sobbing on the floor
Beside my mother's piano
As she played and sang
For there was in her singing
A shy yet solemn glory
My smallness could not hold
And when I was asked
Why I was crying
I had no words for it
I only shook my head
And went on crying
Why is it that music
At its most beautiful
Opens a wound in us
An ache a desolation
Deep as a homesickness
For some far-off
And half-forgotten country
I've never understood
Why this is so
But there's an ancient legend
From the other side of the world
That gives away the secret
Of this mysterious sorrow
For centuries on centuries
We have been wandering
But we were made for Paradise
As deer for the forest
And when music comes to us
With its heavenly beauty
It brings us desolation
For when we hear it
We half remember
That lost native country
We dimly remember the fields
Their fragrant windswept clover
The birdsongs in the orchards
The wild white violets in the moss
By the transparent streams
And shining at the heart of it
Is the longed-for beauty
Of the One who waits for us
Who will always wait for us
In those radiant meadows
Yet also came to live with us
And wanders where we wander.
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