Forgive Me If My Volume Offends You

Let Everything That Has Breath Praise the Lord
For 14 years a song, has churned in his heart. Being stirred and shaken, pursued while withdrawn... For 14 years there has been a single thought, spoken, carrying the conversation in more ways than he would dare to admit and carefully consider bearing witness to. He Heard You! The answer - the truth. I know who you are. The decision that cost him almost a decade before and after.
Wanting to know rest, yet stewing, percolating in every lost cause - every sporadic decision. Your life will change they told him. It must and it has. It is written. For 14 years a random thought would fuel the push toward a road fraught with thorns and issues - with failure, constitution test, who or why do I give a - why do you care so much the psalmist records - I will praise the Lord at all times his praise will continually be on my lips...
Why do you praise?
The question would linger. Why do I hear you? Why give me the voice when you know I can't sing? A raspy voice with aggressive overtures and just as powerful impulses to go for it... why push so hard for a passion when you don't know the tune? You're not even sure there is a tune. There is an unspun melody so rare that only you could appreciate its hum. But you know, I did not want to sing. I live and I breathe my yes but I choose to... Let everything that has breath...
This collection began with an incidental thought amongst children. As a rallying thought pursuing a father who knows you more than you care to know about you and him. An innocent passion with youthful excitement and even more superfluous banter... a childlike faith. Forgive me if I sound off key is the first note in sharing the spark that he has given to you (me) every individual. It is a vessel of inspiration. It is a choice that's been cared for and nurtured through the pitfalls and scorns of the journey. To some it may seem less beautiful and more distended courting... to some it may seem wildly unpopular and sordidly incendiary (instigative) This collection though is the ultimate piece - a peace that surpasses an audience looking at the garden; a volume of music only the one who called it could understand its use. I tried. The Original - you made me. Show me the beauty in what it means to be made. Let everything that has breath, I who have this voice - Praise ye the Lord.