Music...To Sooth A Savage Breast...

Before I continue, let's give due credit to the poet of the parsed title of this post:

"Music has charms to sooth a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak."
(William Congreve  Born: February 10, 1670  Died: January 19, 1729)

 Ahhhh....much better to have the full and entire quote.

Something tells me that old William Congreve knew more than what he succinctly stated. 

Just sixteen small words woven together to create more than just a thought.

Go ahead.   Read the full quote again.   Let it wash over and through you.

"Music has charms to sooth a savage breast, to soften rocks, or bend a knotted oak."

It paints a full and beautiful tapestry of 

 chosen-choice threads, 

   broken-but-rewoven threads,

     scavenged-and-traded-for threads, 

       and threads that took years to save for...

         ...before being able to weave once again.  

The warp and the weft and the shuttle; 

 over 

   and over 

     and over again 

the loom moves under the knowing touch 

  of the Weavers' hands, 

    who also alone has eyes to see 

      the yet-to-be-beauty 

        of what untrained eyes cannot yet see.

Why do I speak of weaving instead of speaking to the obvious music quote?

It's because that when I came to the end of the entire quote---

.....knowing that The Father, 

 The Weaver of my personal tapestry of life, 

   has woven into me from the foundation of the world, 

    His frequencies of sound, 

      and wave lengths of light, 

         that allow me to vibrate alongside of, and in Him.....

---I heard His Voice, His Music, that is deeply woven through me...and immediately came to peace.

Undone in The Presence of 

                              The One Who loves me.

During this obnoxious "thing" called Deployment, I've been that knotted oak, that granite rock, the one who's savage breast has had full blown warfare unleashed just beneath the skin, writhing and seething in hidden ugliness. 

My Lord gave me the title of the blog today.   

Nothing else did He give...

...until....

....I had found the entire quote and He immediately healed my savage breast;  the rest came from that intimate place of knowing, where True music lies hidden.

You know the place.   

We all have it----IF----we have Jesus.

It's the place of being safe with our Lord, 

     The Lover of our soul, 

           and knowing that it's alright

                 to be completely undone before Him.

I've always known this.

I knew it the last time I posted all of my anger and frustration.

And that's alright.    

I'm just fine with who I am...and who I am becoming.

I can blow fire and brimstone one time, sounding like a screaming Banshee and as crazy as The Red Queen screaming, "OFF WITH THEIR HEADS!!!"

....and all the while be hearing my Lord's Voice inside, underneath the madness.

I KNOW that I am loved and still hold a pliable heart with a teachable spirit, in the midst of "being me/being Thee".  

(Be careful how ye judge O ye NON-weavers.) 

And...it's all about timing;

  timing in the beat and measure of music;

     timing in the beat and measure of weaving;

       timing in the beat and measure of growing

          in His precious Grace.

It all weaves together; music and tapestry becomes life.

The worn and frazzled threads woven into the costly and beautiful threads of Our Tapestry making us a one-of-a-kind creation.

The discordant, nails-on-the-chalkboard notes

   blended, 

      resolved, 

         and then made an important part of 

            The Celestial Music that bears our name.   

All musicians know that there is no resolution....without some discord in the piece.

Is my life resolved?   No, not by a long shot.    But I have a better idea where the discordant notes go now...and why. 

I'm a rock who has been 

  softened 

    by the Singing Water of The Word; 

I am strong enough to build upon,

  yet soft enough to lay your head upon to rest.

I'm an oak, no longer gnarled, knotted and scary, 

  but bendable in the winds; 

    who bends to give shelter, 

      and stretches to give shade, 

        and houses many in my pliable branches.

And my breast is not quite so savage.   

I am quite soothed by the melodies that my Lord 

  sings to, 

    and with me.  

Hmm...reminds me of one of my earlier songs that I wrote as a love song to Jesus:" Where Our Two Hearts Can Sing".  

It's in 6/8 time and is really dear.   *sigh*    

I actually woke up to it one morning after a dream.    

Ahhhh, young love.

First love.

Always Love.

Eternal Love.

With A Soothed Breast,

My Love,

Patti