My Maestro

First on a string, a pitch
to catch the ear,
And then the wind for which
to lift the spirit there.
Soon louder comes the drum
to bring our heart in step;
and brave the brass, the one
to give the music depth.

Before it all, all eyes upon the stick,
and each on time, not slow and none too quick.
Each note a gem or drop of rain,
a jewel that makes the hearer glad he came.
The score, a stroke of genius born,
with rhythm, string pulled tight, and horn.

Baton between the fingers strong and sure,
creating sacred melody that’s pure;
and reaching peaks of rapture for a sense
made for His pleasure in the present tense.
Vibrations rolling through the air as sound,
and caught by organs by which they may be found.

At times the cymbal crashing, trumpets roar,
at times the reeds and pipes do whisper more.
Each note designed to hold a special place
and work its work when called upon by grace,
as spirits float and sail with angel’s wing.
We all are instruments, and all were made to sing. id

-Ingimar DeRidder

Mary was an instrument – She said, "Behold the handmaid of the Lord, be it unto me according to Thy word."
Noah, Nehemiah, Moses, and David were all instruments.
God is not looking for majority rule, He does not need political precincts or politicians in back rooms filled with tobacco smoke to save the world.  The world voted so many years ago. It said, “give us Barabbas.” I say, “Give me Jesus.”
Every person born is an instrument,
and will be an instrument for better or for worse.
The Bible says, “All things were made by Him, and for Him.”
Abraham Lincoln said, “Whatever you are, be a good one.”   -id