Sometimes when I hear a singer belt out a song with jarring clarity and passion or read an impressively-crafted paragraph, I am moved to tears. This morning, while reading Shantaram, I realized that some of those tears were prayers: prayers of gratitude for the perseverance it took for author David Gregory Roberts to find his “voice,” but also, prayers for using my own “voice” with such power and precision.
I cannot sing at all, but, there have been a few times in my life when I have felt the electricity moving from me to my audience and knew I was singing, standing in the live current of eternal power: giving the gift I was born to give.
And, I knew that those who sing out loud with their gift become the gift.
It might take a lifetime, and it might not be easy, but there are people waiting for the song only we can sing.
However difficult, we must sing it like we mean it.