so looking to the sky i will sing and from my heart to YOU i bring…
Author: loia
Loia writes a life, not a lane — Christian, writer, musician & singer.
Life stories and dreams — shaped by music, faith, memory, poetry, and silence. `'.,°~
https://loia.blog/about/
Big Daddy Weave 🎶 I Know 🎶 We Want The World To Hear…
Today I want to spotlight one of my favorite faith side artists… Big Daddy Weave… They formed in 1998 after meeting at the University of Mobile in Alabama… They have been pouring out honest heartfelt worship ever since… Their lead singer is Mike Weaver… and this one is personal for me… because I once served in music ministry with two of his family members… so this band has always felt close to home for me…
I have two powerful songs for you today…
“I Know” released in 2o19 on the album.. When The Light Comes… This one means a lot to me… I had just found out about Charlie Kirk… I was sitting in silence… grieving… then this song began to play… it became a moment I will never forget…
“We Want The World To Hear” from 2o08 on the album.. What Life Would Be Like… An amazing album… probably my favorite from them…
I hope you enjoy these today… 🙏
..¹⁴³…..♪~♪..[..]..◎~◎”
On my darkest day… From my deepest pain… Through it all… my heart… will choose… to sing… Your praise… `.°-‘.^ …t`
This song has the “F” word in it… only once… in one line… so you may not want to listen… if it may offend you… 👇
I was born in September of 73`… a Gen X kid… when I look back now… I realize things…
Yeah maybe I was doing stuff early on that probably could have waited until I was an adult…
but life was different back then…
the world was wider… lighter… rawer… simpler… all at once…
And us kids…
we were all little grown-ups…
From the time I was about eight until I was fourteen…
life couldn’t have been much better…
I grew up in a fairly large community of side by side houses… side by side families… where everybody knew everybody… neighbors didn’t just nod — they shared life… they borrowed sugar… they brought each other meals… they sat in yards and talked about real things… hearts… stories… struggles… faith… loss… laughter…
It wasn’t perfect — but man… it was real…
My great-grandfather lived with us in those days…
he was one of a kind…
old as dirt… tougher than leather… stubborn as wet cement…
he had lived much… And he never ran out of stories…
He’d sit outside every day… in this beat up old folding chair…
And half the time.. I’d pull another chair beside him… and just listen…
He was a war veteran — A Purple Heart… other medals he earned through blood and grit…
Infantry… France… WW2…
he’d tell me stories of laughing under fire… marching… waiting… freezing… fighting… barely surviving…
And I’d pepper him with a thousand questions… because I couldn’t get enough…
Later.. I found out from my grandmother… that he had taken many lives in battle… those stories… he never told… those belonged to him… and God alone…
What I did see… was a man who had walked through hell…
And somehow came back kinder… tougher…
And still able to laugh a little… And love a lot…
And without making speeches… without preaching a word…
he was shaping the boy sitting beside him…
In those days… my parents worked…
so most times I had to fend for myself…
I had a house key… freedom… responsibility…
but there were rules…
Do the right thing when nobody is watching…
Be about character… Be about integrity…
Be about it…
Be a decent human being…
And oh yeah… be home by dark…
On the edge of our community… the world exploded into a massive forest deep woods stretching for miles… thousands of acres… trees… creeks… hidden lakes… trails… wildlife…
a giant playground for kids who hadn’t yet learned to be afraid of living…
I spent countless days exploring those woods…
fishing… riding dirt bikes… shooting guns…
no supervision… no phones… just trust…
Sometimes on Saturdays I’d wake up before the sun… pack myself a sack lunch and some drinks… grab my fishing poles and tackle box… strap it all to the back of my dirt bike… And disappear into the woods…
All… day… long…
Sometimes friends came along… sometimes it was just me and the world — And honestly… those were some of the best days…
Many mornings my great-grandfather would stop me before I left… hand me his old .22 pistol in a worn leather holster… And tell me to take it “for protection”… because us kids needed guns back then haha… we learned early… how to treat and respect a firearm… it was a great privilege… responsibility… And it was ours…
I’d strap it to my waist like a cowboy… fire up that dirt bike… And ride off into the blue…
Freedom… Adventure… Responsibility… Trust…
A childhood that felt like life training…
And I am grateful… deeply grateful…
Those years shaped me… they toughened me… they softened me… they taught me courage… solitude… resourcefulness… respect… curiosity… wonder… independence…
I didn’t know it then…
but those were Holy days…
And I am thankful I grew up when I did…
in a world… full… of little grown-ups…
`’x.~¡-^;‐
Also… my great-grandfather’s middle name and mine… are the same… Loia… pronounced Loy like Joy…
I forgot to mention my dog… Buck… he was there too… he didn’t live inside a fence… he never knew a leash… he was free to roam… just like me… he followed me everywhere… he loved to swim… while I fished…
I’m the blood on your guitar… I’m that wave You caught back in 1975…
Since I was a little boy—with flaming red hair—a face full of freckles—I have always been a dreamer… As life’s bullet train has sped through my night… my freckles have faded… blended… my hair has darkened from that fiery red—to something older… But my dreams… They have never faded… They are still alive…
Sleep is not rest for me— It is assignment… It is battlefield… When I close my eyes at night— I am not drifting off… I am clocking in… For a fight…
Since childhood—storms call my name… Not gently… But roaring… spinning… Tearing open my sky… Hurricanes… tornadoes… I have stood in both—right in the heart of them—more than once… They do not push me back… They pull me in… I do not run from storms— I run toward them… I am a storm chaser…
Yet in my dreams—the rules reverse…
In my dreams—the storms chase me…
For fifty years—I have had the same recurring dream… Hundreds of times… Tornado dreams… Always different… yet always the same… Tornadoes spinning on every horizon… Coming for me… Hunting me… Running me down… They never quite catch me— But they drive me forward… They harden my legs… They make me stronger…
Yet…
It would be great just to rest sometimes… Catch a break in my night… Lay down my sword… Take off my armor… No courage… No strength… Just sleep… Just sleep… Just sleep…
only for a little bit and not nearly as smart as him 😁
But seriously…
I was sitting on a bench— in a town square— just like the movie
As I do in all my dreams… I scanned everything first— taking it in— inspecting the air the place the feeling— before diving in
Sitting beside me on the bench— was a man I recognized
Gary
My neighbor from when I was about fourteen— he lived directly next door he used to play football with me and my friends he took me fishing often— he loved to fish— and he didn’t like going alone
He didn’t really have friends either
He and his wife Nancy— were from upstate New York they’d moved to the Atlanta area for work— and I assume— to eat grits 🙃
Gary was older than me— about twenty five I was fourteen… and still missing the toilet when I pissed
I looked up to him— like a big brother
The last time I saw him— was a few months after my friend’s funeral not long after that— he and Nancy moved away— I think back to New York— if I remember right
There we were— side by side— on that bench
I spoke to him…
He turned toward me— but he didn’t know who I was
So I told him— reminded him of our past— the fishing the football the neighborhood
Then he remembered…
His eyes lit up…
And then I told him— that God loved him
His face changed…
He became sad— started crying
He told me— his family was very worried about him— very concerned
And that was it…
I woke up…
End of dream…
I went downstairs— made coffee— then breakfast— in that order
I’ve thought about him all morning… I prayed for him…
For some reason— I have the feeling that today— this very moment— he’s in a storm
I was waist deep in an icy body of water — dark… still… and filled with large chunks of white and blue ice I could feel the cold cutting into me I was freezing Shivering Every movement felt slow and heavy
At the edge of the water stood a large square black house No windows Just one open door — glowing with light It felt like the only way out of this place
So I waded through the water in the night searching for something… I didn’t know what
Then I heard crying
Someone calling out in distress
I saw a disturbance in the water ahead of me… It was a girl… She looked like she was drowning… I moved toward her without thinking — instinct kicked in…
When I reached her.. I noticed something strange
She was blue
Her skin… her whole body… an unnatural blue
I tried to help her toward the shore toward the light — but suddenly she changed She latched onto me Hard… she began trying to pull me out into deeper water…
She was trying to drown me
Her eyes were excited — almost joyful — as I struggled to stay afloat She was enjoying it Taking pleasure in my suffering The fight for survival became violent and desperate She wouldn’t relent
Neither would I
I fought and fought and fought
I was determined… not to let her win…
I pushed through the icy water toward the lit door of the black house as she tried again and again to drag me under Through the open doorway.. I could see people inside — just living their lives Normal Unaware Going about their day
I tried to yell to them
But I couldn’t scream loud enough
I kept trying… but my words had no weight No volume Nothing carried
I was so close to the door now — so close — and that blue bitch almost had me She was seconds from pulling me under the surface of the water
I knew I had one chance left
I reached deep inside myself I had to make it count
And I yelled one last time —
“YALL HELP ME”
I woke myself up… shouting those words out loud
Physically yelling
And suddenly… it was over
I was awake
Safe
What a relief
It was just a dream
—
very profound… very real… I laid awake in bed… thinking `’.-°
…….≈≈≈↓~❄→|█|→□▣→†→~↓≈≈≈→<o>→|█|→( )→!→/\/\/\→↑→”YALL HELP ME”→’→~__→…..t `’.-° -;- ~`’,
Heart of Loia `'.,°~ 