holding up a basket to catch all the falling stars

What did I do to deserve this?

Maybe all the mornings and nights of putting in the effort are paying off.

Maybe, but it feels like this is just a gift, a gift I couldn't possibly have earned.

I wrote songs when I was a young girl.

I knew a lot of great songs, songs by Elton John (all because of Bernie!), songs by Cat Stevens, songs by Carole King and Carly Simon, Lames Taylor, and Gordon Lightfoot. Jim Croche. John Denver.

I knew a whole lot of songs and I had them all memorized and I could play them all through on my guitar.

This was true by the time I was twelve or thirteen and forever after.

This is to say that I've put in the effort.

This is to say that I've spent the hours.

But nothing really prepares you to receive the Holy Spirit.

"what though the tempest loudly roars

I hear the truth it liveth,

what though the darkness round me close

songs in the night it giveth."

This happens to people.

The songs are given to you in completion sometimes.

You can't even believe it's happening.

I've been waking up at 3am or at 6am or today at 8am and the song is playing still, the soundtrack of a dream I was having.

If I'm on the ball enough I say "what's this song I'm singing?"

Right now they're always a song I've already been working on butI find that I'm singing additional verses that I've been hoping to write.

I can sit for an hour, pen in hand, guitar on lap, in broad daylight, trying to rhyme some words to write the missing third verse of a new song.

I wake up at 4am and I'm singing the missing verse as I wake.

I am witnessing a personal miracle.

I'm just going with it, running around my backyard in the night holding up a basket to catch all the falling stars.

Love.

I think it's a quote from the Artist's Way that says, "You worry about the quantity and let God worry about the quality."

Love.

 

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