Himself

Listening to her play the piano, GOD's spirit touches me.
Gently laying in the music of himself, his care and tenderness tends perfectly to my soul.
Himself the colors, the sounds.
Himself who tucks me into folds of love, sounds of his spirit in twines and covers me, where words alone could never paint.
I receive, heal and know and am known.
Himself who is ever loving me first that I might love in return.
His special flowing moving healing love of himself
I look and see the little girl of his delight whom he uses to minister himself to me.
He shares with me her spirit of delight to play for the king. Sparkling eyes, beautiful heart, he loves her like crazy.
My heart so full I want to tell her over and over of the Father gift she gives me each time she plays.
It is the gift of grace, the gift of himself that could never be repaid.
My solace and joy is that I know the same Himself is her Himself and he can do and is, far more in a zillion far more ways.
So Father give her a hug from me and thank her, bless her with great heaps of yourself as I know you do.
ted