catapult magazine

The Sound of my Faith

by Sherry Boykin

O to be swept into worship
With that rhythmic gospel
That my soul longs to offer back to my God.
For it is He who has made my heart
To beat to the very music of His word
And who has made my feet dance
To the celebration of His goodness and glory.
Great, grand voices that dig deeply into each word
Proclaiming and celebrating a personal encounter with the King of kings
Despite daily struggles with the Prince of darkness,
Scrape the sod off my heavy, downtrodden spirit,
And in a renewed lightness, with each crescendo,
I clap my hands even louder in amen agreement. 
If I try to contain the song that is on my lips
When I hear of the many things “written aforetime for our learning,”
The very tears of my eyes cry out in protest,
For it is He who has created me and the sound of my faith. 

He who has created me and the sound of my faith
Has sent me to a foreign land
To be swept into worship with a sweet, strange melody
In which my soul struggles to find release.
My heart searches for and my feet seek that which is muzzled
In a quieter, more subdued proclamation of truth, and so
In my heart I run to and fro, desperately looking for a way, a place, a means to celebrate.
And then it hits me.  This is my portion. 
My heart must beat silently to the music of His word. 
My feet must dance within shoes that are laced and bound. 
When my downtrodden yet redeemed soul is scraped clean and given hope
By the patience and comfort of the Scriptures, I will not dare to shout “Amen,”
For my tongue will be bound.  I will not clap, for my hands will be stilled. 
The tears of my eyes protest inwardly, for this is my portion. 
Shall I then cease to desire to be swept into that rhythmic gospel
That my soul longs to offer back to my God?
No, no, no, not ever!
For it is He who has created me and the sound of my faith.