I’ve found God’s love of diversity and creativity in the music that defined my 80s and 90s. It’s laced into the chords of the electric guitar, in melodies, in keyboards, and in the voices of artists like George Michael, Prince, Duran Duran, Tears for Fears, Paul Young, Simply Red, Michael Jackson.
I wonder if they could feel the holy partnership in the sounds they made? Did they feel God in the joy of fingers on strings or on keys, in the rightness of lyrics unfolded, in the warm round perfection of a sung note? Maybe they just didn’t know it was him, because they had to have felt it. I hear it!
How can you overlook God dripping out of your pores when even in your plainest or ugliest moments, you are so beautiful? I see the outline of all his wonderful and patient creativity in the things you are, the light that makes the shadows. In your lust or pain or anger or confusion, he’s rendered that much more beautifully through your distortions. He’s still beautiful and because he is, so are you. His gifts given are still lovely, even if you don’t sign his name to them, even if you try to scratch out his name and scrawl yours over the top of it. I think he’s a beautiful God who plops himself in the midst of such an ugly humanity like ours and gives us the means to make beauty and to be beautiful.