The Sound of Redemption

The idea of sound has always been one of my favorites.

To watch fireworks as they hit the top of an inky black sky and shudder delightedly at the boom that follows. To touch the frosted window as the snowflakes dissolve into teardrops and hear the howling of the wind as it kisses my cheeks. To leap into a heap of fire-tinted leaves and hear the crunch as well as feel it.

Sound has always been my favorite sense, but I stand in awe and admiration of the people who make it their favorite fantasy.

To be captivated by the darkened thunder clouds and understand their frustration of some misfortune here below. To watch a bird singing, perched on a budding branch, and wonder of the songs inside her. To leap into a heap of fire-tinted leaves and take in the smell as well as feel them.

I know there are sounds too wondrous to describe. And it pains me to know that some cannot share in them.

Though I have always loved sound, the idea of redemption has become my favorite.

To read a promising verse as it bubbles to the surface of a well-worn page and breathe delightedly that it is meant for me. To touch the frosted window as the snowflakes dissolve into teardrops and know that my own will someday be wiped away. To be captivated by the roaring thunder clouds, sensing the power of the One who works all things for the good of those who love Him. To hear a bird singing, perched on a budding branch, and smile that she was created so lovingly. To leap into a heap of fire-tinted leaves and hear the crunch as well as feel the joy of the life I have.

I stand in shock and sorrow of the people who believe it a simple fantasy. I know there is a grace too wondrous to describe. And it pains me to know that some do not share in it.

The wonder of sound and the wonder of redemption collide in the words: “He who has ears to hear, let him hear.”