Have you ever yelled
for your child to be quiet because your favorite song is playing on the
radio? Or turned the car
radio up really loud while not-so-subtly asking them to be quiet
by saying, “I REALLY LIKE THIS SONG”?
Have you ever sung very loudly and emotionally along with your favorite song using an umbrella or a spatula as a microphone? Yeah...I have on way more than one occasion. I love music.
I’ve always been quick to find personal connections to song lyrics, deep meaning in someone else’s words. I have always been the “music person” in my
family.
You know how in most
- not all, but most - relationships, there is one person who is just more
musically inclined? I don’t necessarily
equate being “musically inclined” with playing a musical instrument or being
trained to sing well, but with liking and relating to music more. One who not only sings loudly along with the
radio but who can tell you band name, album, song title and year it came out; one
who assigns real life value to lyrics that “move me and that mean something to
me” versus one who kinda likes that guitar riff and sorta remembers the refrain
of that one song, you know, the one that goes “la la lalala“ by that one group….sort
of, you know?
Maybe that’s just the
way my marriage is, but
since I’m the one writing, we’re just going to assume that most relationships
are just like that. ;) I enjoyed all sorts of music growing up - 80s
music, hair band metal, country, pop, Latin, alternative rock, etc. The ABCs of my CD collection - yes, CD
collection (with a few MP3 downloads thrown in for modernity’s sake) - run the
gamut from The Avett Brothers to ABBA, from BarlowGirl and Black
47 to Andrea Bocelli and Sara Bareilles, and from Coldplay to the Cure. My musical tastes are nothing if not eclectic. I’ve always liked listening to music while
driving, doing crafts, cooking dinner, cleaning the house, etc. But that all changed in the days and weeks following my daughter’s death.
When my sweet girl
died, I wanted nothing more than silence.
I could NOT stand noise - loud, soft, words, songs, any noise at
all. Noise was too hard to be
around. I didn’t watch TV. I didn’t listen to the radio. I left my cell phone on vibrate, just as it
had been set while I was in my daughter’s hospital room for all those months. I didn‘t want to hear a ringtone.
I asked my boys to talk softly or not at all. I didn't want to hear anything. I just wanted silence, as though
silence could ever translate into peace.
But at a certain point, even the silence got to be too loud. Silence and the non-stop, can’t get away from
them, can’t make them stop images of the last days of my daughter’s life and
especially of her death. At a certain
point, I had to let noise, and more specifically the music, back into my
life.
But it took weeks
before I could tolerate any noise while driving. When I did finally allow noise in the car, I
could only handle so much. No crap, no
kids’ music, and NO CRAP. So that ruled
out a majority of what’s on the (secular) radio nowadays, especially pop/rock and even
quite a bit of today’s country music.
Heck, it even ruled out some of the Christian music on the radio.
But I eventually started
listening to KLOVE. Oh, how I hate the name of that radio
station. It makes me roll my eyes to
even say it - KLOVE - but it was and
still is the only station that gives me what my heart and soul need. I was still so angry with God at that point,
yet I couldn’t listen to any music but that which praised Him or talked about
Him. I was furious that He took my baby
away from me, but even in the midst of my anger, I knew that listening to most of the drivel and
tripe that passes for modern music wouldn’t help my mood, my spirit or my soul.
Music, and more specifically
Christian music, has been a balm for my soul, providing comfort and reassurance
when mere words couldn’t and offering hope and even a little bit of light
during the darkest time of my life. The
lyrics of certain songs just spoke to my aching soul and broken heart in ways
that other words could not.
So without further
ado, I present my play list - a mix tape for the melancholy - full of songs that have meant so much to me and have helped me the
most during this past year. I think that several of these songs would provide comfort to anyone experiencing difficulty,
not just those in the throes of grief. I’m
sure we’ve all felt very far from God at some point in our lives, as though all
sorts of crap is raining down on us while He appears to be keeping His distance,
watching but not helping, hearing but ignoring.
It’s nice to know that the simple words of a randomly played song on the
radio could bring us closer to Him and just might be the way He reaches out to
us when we need Him most.
You’re gonna
have all of me
You’re gonna
have all of me
“Cause you’re
worth every falling tear
You’re worth
facing any fear
You’re gonna
know all my love
Even if it’s
not enough
Enough to mend
our broken hearts
But giving you
all of me is where I’ll start.
Of course, a song
written by a heart dad had to make it to this list! It’s one of the first that I remember noticing
and really listening to after I let the noise back in. Matt Hammitt’s son Bowen was born with
hypoplastic left heart syndrome (HLHS), a congenital heart defect that usually
takes at least three surgeries to correct.
The first time I heard this song, I couldn’t stop crying. I was driving at the time, so that wasn’t
good. I honestly felt like I could have
written every single word in this song because I lived every single word of
it. The lyrics took my breath away; they
were my own thoughts and emotions set to music. Mine was a reckless love for my daughter, and
she was worth everything, every sacrifice, every tear shed both then and now.
I was sure by
now
God, you would
have reached down
And wiped our
tears away
Stepped in and
saved the day
But once
again, I say “Amen”, and it’s still raining.
As the thunder
rolls
I barely hear
You whisper through the rain
“I’m with you”
And as your
mercy falls
I raise my
hands and praise the God who gives
And takes
away.
It is so easy to praise
God when things go well, when life is good and when the blessings are
abundant. To praise Him when everything
goes south is beyond difficult and can seem downright impossible. It’s hard to praise the One at whom you’re
shaking your fist and swearing like a sailor.
This song serves as a reminder that God deserves my praise, my thanks
and my adoration in all circumstances.
And believe you me - I have needed that reminder time and again for the
last year!
Two months is
too little
They let him
go.
They had no
sudden healing.
To think that
providence would
Take a child
from his mother while she prays
Is appalling.
…
This is what
it means to be held
How it feels when
the sacred is torn from your life
And you
survive.
You only have to
listen to the first verse of this song, changing a few words here and there, to understand why
it touched me. It is truly appalling to
pray and to hope only to have those prayers seemingly ignored and that hope
crushed. But God is faithful even when
we aren’t, and though the prayers aren’t always answered in the ways we want,
He holds us through it all. This is a lesson I have to relearn with each new day.
Breathe
Sometimes I
feel it’s all that I can do
Pain so deep
that I can hardly move
Just keep my
eyes completely fixed on You
Lord, take
hold and pull me through
…
I’m alive even
though a part of me has died
You take my
heart and breathe it back to life
Oh, heavens, this is
another song that could have come straight from my own hurting heart, and it‘s
another one that makes it hard to breathe for all the crying I do while listening
to it. I was so freaking ANGRY after my
daughter died, but in the midst of that anger, I still found myself turning to
God, talking to Him constantly and relying on Him to carry me through the pain.
And with your
final heartbeat
Kiss the world
good-bye
Then go in
peace and laugh on Glory’s side, and
Fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus
Fly to Jesus
and live!
I heard this song for
the first time while listening to a CD that my boys got at vacation Bible
school a few summers ago. Even then,
before experiencing the soul crushing pain of losing a child, the song made me well
up. Now that my own sweet girl has flown
to Jesus, it touches me more.
And I will
rise when He calls my name
No more
sorrow, no more pain
I will rise on
eagles’ wings
Before my God
fall on my knees
And rise
I will rise
What a beautiful
thing to imagine - my sweet girl forever before her King, no longer in pain, no
more sick and broken heart. That I didn't want to hear such a sentiment after Ella died or have those words offered as comfort doesn't change the fact that my little girl's heart has been made perfect in Christ. For as much
pain as I am in, for as much as I desperately miss her, for as much as I ache -
truly, physically ache - for not
being able to hold her in my arms, I would never begrudge her Heaven.
You’re in a
better place, I’ve heard a thousand times
And a thousand
times I’ve rejoiced for you
But the reason
why I’m broken, the reason why I cry
Is how long I
must wait to be with you
I close my
eyes and I see your face
If home’s
where my heart is then I’m out of place
Lord, won’t
you give me strength to make it through somehow
I’ve never
been more homesick than now
I’m afraid. That’s the long and the short of it. I’m afraid I’ll forget what she looked like,
what she smelled like, what it felt like to hold her in my arms while I swayed
back and forth, her head resting against my chest while I kissed the top of her
head. I’m afraid I’ll forget how the
weight of her wee body felt as I held her against my chest, sang her silly songs, and whispered
“I love you” in her ear. I'm afraid I’ll forget the words to the songs I sang to her. I cry because I miss her. I cry because I know where she is, but I
can’t see her or visit her. I cry
because I wanted more time. I miss her
so much, and though I have the hope of seeing her again in Heaven, that just
feels so far away. Only God can get me
through the wait until I see her again.
I set out on a
great adventure
The day my
Father started leading me home
Said there’s
gonna be some mountains to climb
And some
valleys we’re gonna go through
But I had no
way of knowing
Just how hard
this journey could be
Cause the
valleys are deeper
And the
mountains are steeper
Than I ever
would’ve dreamed
Not all the songs
have to be sad or melancholy! This song
is catchier and more upbeat than almost all the others on my list. Heck, it has a ukulele in it! As Chapman said, “you can’t frown and play a ukulele.“ I don’t think you can listen to one while
frowning either! That it’s upbeat
certainly doesn’t take anything away from the message. We are all just pilgrims on our way home to
the Father. It’s just that some journeys
are longer and harder than others. We
have to trust that we’ll make it, even if “we’re taking the long way
home.”
This song is much
more poignant when you realize that Chapman lost a daughter (whom he and his wife adopted) to a tragic
accident a few years back. When your
child dies, you want to get to Heaven that much quicker, if only to see her
again. The hard parts are the wait and
the journey YOU still have to take even when your child’s journey is done. [Chapman’s song “Heaven Is The Face”…oh, it says so much,
too.]
Oh, for the love of
pete, do you really need a reason to blast an honest to goodness, foot
stomping, play it loud and sing it louder kind of song?! This one gets played in the car with the
volume set at 15. Crank it. Yell the lyrics. ENJOY.
And then when you’re done listening to that one, listen to this one. Fantastic and fun!
--------------------------------------------------
Forgive
the pun, but listening to music has been very instrumental in helping me
through the grieving process. It has
given me words to sing, say and pray when my own have failed me, and it has
given me an emotional outlet like no other resource has. I truly believe that God used my love of and
need for music in my life to reach me even when I felt completely unreachable. He spoke His words of comfort
and peace and love to me through the lyrics of the songs I heard when I finally let the
noise in again. I’m grateful for that
because I cannot imagine what kind of head space I’d be in today if I hadn’t
had those songs. Music has absolutely
been among the most valuable of all the cheap therapies I’ve relied on over
the past year.
And
if nothing else, perhaps by writing this post and providing some links for you
to click on, I’ve introduced you to some new sounds or reacquainted you with
some old ones. Who knows? Maybe you’ll come across some cheap therapy
that you didn’t even know you needed. ;)
St.
Ella, pray for us!