You Belong

Verse 1

I heard it in the quiet between my thoughts,

In the hush before the dawn,

Not thunder, not a trumpet call,

Just a whisper saying, “You belong.”

It moved like light across the kitchen floor,

Poured warm into my palms,

In the simple work of breaking bread,

I felt the world held in its arms.

Pre-Chorus

It isn’t locked in temples,

It isn’t owned by any creed,

It blooms inside the wounded place,

Like water in a seed.

Chorus

Spiritual knowing is not rare,

It is the sacred language of God,

Written in the breath we share,

In the road our feet have trod.

Not a cipher for the chosen few,

But a mother tongue of love,

Spiritual knowing is not rare,

It is the sacred language of God.

Verse 2

I saw it in my neighbor’s weary eyes,

A kindness shining through the rain,

In the open hand that lifted me,

When I could not stand the pain.

It hummed beneath the traffic noise,

Like a river under stone,

A chorus made of ordinary lives,

Calling every heart back home.

Pre-Chorus

It doesn’t need a thunderclap,

To prove that it is real,

It moves in every mercy,

In the courage just to feel.

Chorus

Spiritual knowing is not rare,

It is the sacred language of God,

Written in the breath we share,

In the road our feet have trod.

Not a cipher for the chosen few,

But a mother tongue of love,

Spiritual knowing is not rare,

It is the sacred language of God.

Bridge

When the night is heavy and the questions never end,

Listen for the syllables that rise and fall within.

Your heartbeat spells the holy Name,

Your tears translate the sky,

And every yes to love you give

Becomes a living sign.

Verse 3

It sings in fields of waving wheat,

In starfields, salt, and flame,

In the laughter of a child at play,

And every healing of a name.

So lean into the stillness now,

Let the small light lead you on,

The grammar of a faithful dawn

Is already on your tongue.

Chorus

Spiritual knowing is not rare,

It is the sacred language of God,

Written in the breath we share,

In the road our feet have trod.

Not a cipher for the chosen few,

But a mother tongue of love,

Spiritual knowing is not rare,

It is the sacred language of God.

Outro

Not rare, not far, not lost or odd—

Your life speaks it: the language of God.