God, Won't You Speak to Me

God, won't you speak to me, I am hungry for your voice today.
God, won't you speak to me, I am hungry for your touch today.
God, won't you speak to me, I am hungry for your love today,
Speak to me, speak to me, speak to me, speak to me,
I am still ... before You now.

The piano interlude starts out sweetly enough, but the world quickly intrudes and overtakes the music with a crescendo of violent accents and discordancy. I am betrayed and my lie exposed - though my mouth has said, "I am still before you," my heart and thoughts are anything but. Violence. Discordancy. Violence intrudes. I grow impatient with God and cry out again, louder.

God, won't you speak to me, I am hungry for your voice today.
God, won't you speak to me, I am hungry for your touch today.
God, won't you speak to me, I am hungry for your love today,
Speak to me, speak to me, speak to me, speak to me,
I am still ... before You now.

I attempt again to make the words truth, and the sweetness flows from the piano for a brief time longer. But still, there is the intrusion, distraction, it still comes back. God just isn't hearing me. I have to push in, harder. Insistent. Persistent. Where is the sweetness, God? You just don't hear me. Demanding. Insistence. He must hear, I must make him hear. Persist. Crescendo. Demand that He hear. Insist. Fortissimo. Insist. Demand.

God, won't you speak to me,
I am hungry for your voice right now.
God, won't you speak to me,
I am hungry for your touch right now.
God, won't you speak to me,
I am hungry for your love right now,
Speak to me, speak to me, speak to me, speak to me,
I am still ... before You now.

The last words trail off as I suddenly realize my arrogance. My smallness. Forgive me Lord, bring the sweetness back. I am still before - the discord. Push it away, ignore it. Focus on Him. But it pushes - No. Ignore it, look for His peace again. Forgive me, Lord. I am still. It pushes - No. Refuse it, dwell in His peace and kindness. I am still before you, longer. The music is finally beginning to flow with His sweetness, but... No. Back to peace. Back to Him. Please, Lord, I cry out again, softer, no demands, entreating, pleading. Please.

God, won't you speak to me, I am hungry for your voice today.
God, won't you speak to me, I am hungry for your touch today.
God, won't you speak to me, I am hungry for your love today,
Speak to me, speak to me, speak to me, speak to me,
I am still ... before You now.

He comes. He answers, with peace. My efforts now on the piano are slow, soft notes. Almost still. Even when the notes build and begin to flow, His sweetness is there. I don't know if I can ever play this again like the first time, when Your anointing, Your presence was there, Lord. Myself alone, the piano, the Lord. Lord, I can't play this part without you - I want them to hear the peace that I feel, I cannot. Lord, you have to do it. Sweet music, sweet beyond my capabilities, Lord, it has to be you. Beyond my capabilities. The words are sung one last time, now softly, with trembling voice. Even this asking cannot be of me. It has to be Him, both asking and answer. Even as the words are spoken, answered. Even this asking cannot be of me. It is Him, filling my hunger. Sweet music, filling my hunger. Filling my hunger.

God, won't you speak to me, I am hungry for your voice always.
God, won't you speak to me, I am hungry for your touch always.
God, won't you speak to me, I am hungry for your love always,
Speak to me, speak to me, speak to me, speak to me,
I am still ... before You now.