Listening to the Narnia soundtrack... Filled (a bit melodramatically, I'm afraid) with a weighty emotion... So I wrote this:

Somewhere, far overhead, a voice soars on a freezing cold stream of notes. It calls me to come somewhere that is unreachable, untouchable. I can’t see the singer, but I know he can see me, because he speaks right to me. I want to come, so badly. But for now I am held down here in my body. I try to sing too, but my voice is a pale mockery of the one above. I know, no matter how hard I strain, my music will never match the divine. I cry. Why do I exist if all my life is spent in impossible imitation?

Then I open my eyes and see the world around me. I realize that my ability to hear the holy voice is an incredible gift. Many of my friends cannot perceive these achingly beautiful strains. They can only hear each other. And me. They can hear me.

I still reach for something that is impossibly far away, but I know one day I will touch it. And meanwhile, I know my purpose. There is only one Divine. If I could reach Him, I would be divine as well, and that is not to be. But I am not a pale mockery. I am made just the way He wanted, and, as such, I have value. He didn’t create more gods. He created human beings, limited and finite. I will always be dissatisfied if I try to compete with God. The only fruitful competition is with myself.  ¶ 12:27 PM