Your Music, Not Ours

I want to make Your music,

Become part of a symphony of instruments: Your children
Where what we create speaks to people, spreading Your name
Yes we aren't all perfect, we do have sharps and flats
But You use that to make our story even more beautiful
Tell us, again, Your story, Father. We want to hear it
And be reminded of everything You've done for us.

You're story is like the melody of notes, written on a page
And ours, just the simple harmonies, but You are the lead.

Be our Composer, Father God. Make us into Your music.
Make our notes, our lives, our experiences, short and staccato, or long and legato,
Pianissimo, or forte, for Your glory. To make a difference in this world even if we don't see it.
Music is a universal language, and You, are our universal Father. Father of everything.

You are also the Conductor. If you slow down, so do we.
No matter how we think the music, our future, is written before us,
You can change it however which way you want. Drag out the rests, or speed them up.
Make the music however You want it to be.
And use Your instruments, so we can be apart of the majesty too.