What does it mean when you feel something so strongly that it resonates in your bones? When a passion starts as a flame and you can slowly see it growing into a raging inferno inside of you?

What does that all entail? What does it require of me? This passion isn't something to be taken lightly...

Today I was at the Gianni's and they have a robin's nest in the roof of their carport. A little birdie fell out and I noticed it on the ground behind Dan.

We all thought it was cute and started taking pictures of it. But soon enough its mother came back and started walking along the ground away from the gaggle of humans gaping at the small package of beauty that had fallen the short distance from the heavens.

What I saw wasn't the beauty of nature, but the reflection of love and care. The mother bird's first instinct was to get her baby away from these strange things making big noises all around her.


If these little creatures are hard-wired to care for what's been entrusted to them, how much more are we required to do the same? This little flame inside my soul is more in danger now than ever of being snuffed out. And it's hard to light a flame in a hurricane.

Music is this passion. Service is what it requires of me. One of these things come naturally to me. The other... well, it's not the first thing I think about most of the time.

But it's now required of me. Passion is a gift. It's something I've been entrusted with to fan it and shelter it until it's full grown and enables me to pass it to others.



It's not something easily received; it's hard to find, and it's not easy to keep. But it's all I have right now, so I'm going to fight tooth and nail to keep this little flame from the wind and rain of the storm raging outside.