From the Moveable Type chuck-pearson.org blog, December 7, 2007; sadly, I can’t point you towards my LAUNCHcast station anymore. Here, have a Slacker station instead.
One of the things I used to use the ell-jay for was to post song lyrics.
Here’s the thing with song lyrics: they’re somebody else’s words. They’re not your own. Lyrics blogs get annoying after a while (he says, having kept a lyrics blog of his own) because they prevent you from getting in the head of the writer, because he’s always hiding behind somebody else’s words. And the words surely don’t apply exactly to the situation at hand, because there’s no way that the guy writing the song could have known the circumstances of life you’re going through right now.
Here’s the other thing about song lyrics: They can hit you between the eyes when you can’t put your own feelings into words. They can bring a vague emotion into stark relief, invoke praise, invoke mourning, invoke closure. I don’t even discount that they might be the shadow of almighty God, knowing that it’s all getting too overwhelming and pointing the focus back towards Himself.
Yesterday was emotional. Yesterday was extremely emotional, so emotional I just had to leave and go home and hide. Even now, I’m more than a little bit numb. And I needed some good punk rawk to listen to while I tried to get work done this morning, which led me to listen to my LAUNCHcast mix (which I’ve had since 1998, it’s fine-tuned for circumstances such as these).
This song came up. This song has hit me between the eyeballs before. But it took on new and different meaning this morning. It’s not perfect for the situation. But it asks me all the right questions.
There are prayer requests implied in this. I won’t throw the names all over creation. But you can ask, and I’ll tell you.
You slipped from my arms, I knew you had to go
Such a heavy heart, who could hope to hold
And I know where you’re going, and that’s the hardest part
No matter where tonight ends, you won’t escape your broken heart
Stay a while
Helpless for the words, and it tightens up the air
It’s not what you deserve, it’s not for lack of care
Inside of me is screaming out, I’m praying for my prayers
Distracting and unworthy of each and every burning tear
Seems insincere
Do I see God in all of this, maybe all along
It’s just that we’re so small, and simply not as strong
Strong like wings of silver, and feathers made of gold
To carry heavy hearts, to cover all our helpless souls
To cover all of us
Under wings of gold and silver sometimes we have to hide
For shelter from this bitter winter at least tonight
If it were mine to give I’d give you your own time
Turn it back or forward whatever you decide
Stay a while…
(Permalink for “Gold and Silver” by Stavesacre, performed at Cornerstone 2002.)
Another fine mess. 