Keep Singing
It’s our tradition to watch the movie, Groundhog Day, every February the second, and this year especially I resonated with Bill Murray’s character as he lived through the same cold, dreary day over and over again. I nodded in solidarity as he miserably declared, “This winter is never going to end.” Here’s what they don’t tell you about living in a southern coastal town: winter is long, and it’s cold. The weather here the last couple of months has been grey, gloomy, wet, and below-freezing temperatures on the regular. I know all you northern residents are rolling your eyes at me and daring me to live just 24 hours in your deep freezing climates, but I came from a city that gets 350 days of sunshine a year (one of the sunniest cities in the United States), so let me have this one. My husband and I have come up with a safe word to use when we’re feeling particularly cold and missing our desert habitat: “Taco.” If you’ve ever visited Tucson, Arizona you know why we chose this word. Tucson has amazing, mouth-watering tacos. (Let’s just say Mississippi has a lot to offer, but tacos aren’t one of them.) Every time we turn on the electric blanket, wear our cozy socks to bed, and grip our hand warmers while the wind whips around us at our daughter’s soccer game, we look at each other and whisper, “Taco.” Yesterday we had a brief, beautiful day of sun, but this morning on the drive to school as the rain clouds came rolling back in, my precious daughter said from the backseat, “Back to gloom and doom.” (To which my son replied, “Taco.”) This winter is dragging us all down y’all. Look, I know the Bible says, “Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus,” (1Thess. 5:16-18), but right now, my Hallelujah is tired. I’m weary and worn out. Right now, it feels like it’s perpetually winter.
Metaphorically speaking we’re walking through winter as well. The details will remain private, but our souls are sapped and we are clinging to the hope and promises only God can give. I feel weighed down, exhausted, and depleted. The daily battles are leaving me spent. I trust Jesus but my Hallelujah is tired. I need a new song. Have you been there? Are you there now? I feel you. I’m working hard every day to put one foot in front of the other. If I look too far ahead I become nervous and fearful, so I just focus on the here and now, on making it through this moment, this day, with my spirit intact. I won’t stop worshipping, but sometimes I can barely get the words out and I just need to sit and listen instead.
Music is a balm to my weary soul so I’ve been clinging to a handful of particular worship songs in this season of dreariness. One is by Lydia Laird, called “Hallelujah Even Here.” I can’t listen to it without crying. (If you’ve walked through your winter, you know that sometimes a good cry is exactly what you need.) The bridge of the song says, “Sometimes nothing left to give / Becomes the sweetest offering / And sometimes choosing just to sing / Is the thing that changes everything.” What reassurance this gives me to know I can come before the Lord, dragging myself with what little strength I have left, and lay at His feet in total exhaustion. He welcomes me in any state.
Another song I love is, “I Gotta Keep Singing” by MercyMe. It’s a prayer more than a song, really: “Can I climb up in Your lap / I don't want to leave / Jesus sing over me / I gotta keep singing.”I love the image this song paints, not of kneeling at His feet, but of crawling up into His lap like a child would with their Dad. When the skies look just too dark I find rest and comfort in the embrace of Jesus, and when I’m too tired to sing, I can listen to Him singing over me. Zephaniah 3:17 says, “With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs.” God’s love calms and quiets me. His songs refresh my soul.
How do we, “Rejoice always, pray continually, and give thanks in all circumstances,” when we are bone-tired? Where can we find our Hallelujah in the dead of winter? We must first choose to keep singing. On Sunday mornings at our church, we often sing, “Surrounded” by Michael W. Smith. The song repeats the words, “This is how I fight my battles,” over and over again, and our Worship Director likes to add the words, “I sing a little louder,” each time. I love hearing the volume gradually grow as we repeat the words and our confidence gains. No matter how exhausted I feel, I find my voice in that song. 2 Chronicles 20:15 says, “This is what the LORD says to you: `Do not be afraid or discouraged because of this vast army. For the battle is not yours, but God's.” When we have battles to fight, we need only to sing a little louder.
I recently read my son, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, by C.S Lewis. The story’s villain is the White Witch, a forbidding woman who believes herself to be the queen of Narnia. The White Witch’s magic has made it winter in Narnia for 100 years; always winter but never Christmas. (Sounds miserable, doesn’t it?) Until one day, Aslan, the true King of Narnia, returns, and the snow that’s been covering Narnia for an entire century begins to melt. With the coming of spring, the Witch’s powers begin to weaken. If like me, you are in a season of perpetual winter, I want to offer you hope. Winter doesn’t last forever, but we must be patient. When God moves, the clouds clear, the sun breaks through, the frost melts, and fresh hope springs up. Spring is coming. Just keep singing.
“I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand. He put a new song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God.”