One of the great joys of Spring is the music of the birds. It is sweet to take time to listen in awe to the harmony of the many, many songs lifted in praise to their Maker. I took these bird pictures all from our front porch one rainy day, thrilled to see so many birds in so short a time. Then I thought of them again yesterday when I was reading in the book Streams in the Desert, by Mrs. Charles E. Cowman. Below are quotes from the reading dated May 30th describing how we are given a special song and trained to sing in a special way, so each of us can sing a song like no other.
“And no man could learn that song but the hundred and forty and four thousand, which were redeemed from the earth.” Revelation 14:3
“There are songs which can only be learned in the valley. No art can teach them; no rules of voice can make them perfectly sung. Their music is in the heart. They are songs of memory, of personal experience….
“In Heaven there will be a song that can only be fully sung by the sons of earth… Doubtless it is a song of triumph, a hymn of victory to the Christ who made us free. But the sense of triumph must come from the memory of the chain.
“No angel, no archangel can sing it so sweetly as I can. To sing it as I sing it, they must pass through my exile, and this they cannot do. None can learn it but the children of the Cross.
“And so, my soul, thou art receiving a music lesson from thy Father. Thou art being educated for the choir invisible… There are chords too minor for the angels… There are depths which belong to thee, and can only be touched by thee. Thy Father is training thee for the part the angels cannot sing; and the school is sorrow.
“In the night He is preparing Thy song. In the valley He is tuning thy voice. In the cloud He is deepening thy chords. In the rain He is sweetening thy melody… Despise not thy school of sorrow, O my soul; it will give thee a unique part in the universal song.
“Is the midnight closing round you?
Are the shadows dark and long?
Ask Him to come close beside you,
And He’ll give you a new, sweet song.
He’ll give it and sing it with you;
And when weakness lets it down,
He’ll take up the broken cadence,
And blend it with His own.
“And many a rapturous minstrel
Among those sons of light,
Will say of His sweetest music
‘I learned it in the night.’
And many a rolling anthem,
That fills the Father’s home,
Sobbed out its first rehearsal,
In the shade of a darkened room.”