Alex Campos - Vivir Con Él Lyrics
Lyrics
Al mirar tu hermosura y tu fiel corazón Y tus grandes bendiciones que a mi vida traes hoy Al mirar el firmamento las estrellas y el sol, Me imagino aquel dueño que escucha mi oración.
Como negar tu palpitar, como saberlo si no estas, Como olvidar tu respirar, tus lindos ojos quiero mirar, Voy a gritar que vivo estas, no eres mentira eres real. No importa lo que dirán mi amor por ti reflejara Que en este mundo y fuera de el; No hay nada como vivir con El.
Al mirar tu hermosura y tu fiel corazón Y tus grandes bendiciones que a mi vida traes hoy.
Contemplando aquella ave la que cuida el buen Dios, Pienso cuanto mas me cuida, cuanto mas me amara.
Video
Vivir con Él - Alex Campos (Video Oficial) | Música Cristiana 2021
Meaning & Inspiration
There is a particular kind of tension in leading a room through songs about nature. It is easy for them to become soft, airy, or disconnected from the grit of the pew. But Alex Campos, in this track from Renovado, grounds the observational nature of creation—the stars, the sun, the birds—into a very sharp point of contention: "Cómo negar tu palpitar."
How do we deny your heartbeat?
When I look at this lyric from the perspective of the congregation, I find it shifts the weight away from the environment and puts it squarely on the individual's will. It isn’t just a pretty song about sunsets; it’s an interrogation. He’s asking, in the face of such evidence, how can one remain indifferent? It forces a moment of silence in the middle of a melody. It demands a posture of surrender that is rarely comfortable for the person standing with their hands in their pockets, wondering if they are just going through the motions.
I find myself lingering on the line, "No importa lo que dirán mi amor por ti reflejara." We spend so much time in the liturgy worrying about the clarity of our theology, making sure the words on the screen align perfectly with our doctrinal statements. But here, Campos pivots to the posture of the life lived. He is talking about a witness that exists outside the walls of the building, "en este mundo y fuera de él."
That is the true "Landing" of this song. It isn’t a tidy bow tied at the end of a chorus. It is the realization that if God is indeed the one who sustains the breath of the birds and the light of the sun, then the only logical response is a life that acts as a mirror. If the congregation leaves the room and their lives don't reflect the reality of that "fiel corazón," then the music was just noise.
There is a restlessness in the way he sings, "Voy a gritar que vivo estás." It isn’t a polished, quiet admission. It’s loud. It’s messy. It feels like someone finally dropping the pretense that their faith is merely a private hobby.
Still, I wonder about the gap between the singing and the living. It’s one thing to stand in a room and sing about how easy it is to see God in the firmament; it is an entirely different reality to hold onto that truth when the sky feels dark or silent. Does the "palpitar" of God feel just as present when the blessings aren’t as obvious as the sun? The song doesn't answer that. It leaves the listener with the invitation to decide if they are willing to live as if God is undeniably, frighteningly real, regardless of the social cost. That isn't a comfortable place to leave a congregation, but maybe it’s the only place they actually need to be.