I hope people hear a person not unlike themselves, and I hope my songs can give people language and context for their own internal conversation.
[Love can break your bones
Broken bones sing songs
I’m laying down my guns
So I can sing along]
People tell me to just look up, but when I look up, I see dark clouds.
Somewhere along the way of trying to fight the dark clouds that have been following me for years, I got used to it. Call it laziness, lack of faith, self-pity, wallowing, whatever. But if you know these clouds too, and you deal with them every day too, you know that they don’t ever go away. And honestly, even now, the darkness is neither lighter nor easier.
But this is how I know Christ is stronger. This is what it means to me. Yes, this darkness is strong — the heaviest thing I’ve known — but He is stronger. If this sadness can color my entire life and consume my heart and mind, then He can color in the red of His blood, wash clean my heart and mind, and comfort my soul. And He has the final say.
Still, no, He hasn’t turned my perpetual sadness into a blissful happiness. But what He did do is He first chose me, which in turn gave me the choice to choose Him. And every day I’m trying to believe that choosing Him is a better option than choosing the familiar comfort of the darkness. Because choice is powerful and choice is a gift, a redemptive grace resulting from His choice to die. Now I have the choice to live.
So I’ve slowly begun to digest the hard, dull, and healthy truths that He’s been feeding me.
(Loving truth is like eating brown rice after a lifetime of white rice. Somewhere along the way you realize white rice only fills you up with empty sugars that do nothing for your body. Brown rice takes some getting used to, but slowly and surely you start to like it because it actually has the nutrients to build up your body. Yeah, that’s right, I compared truth to rice.)
And I’m finally learning to live with this. Maybe one day in this lifetime my clouds will be gone for good, but until that day, I’m okay with walking under them. Because it doesn’t matter what’s above me as long as Jesus is in front of me, or for that matter, next to me. So thanks but no thanks, not me; I can’t afford to just look up — I’m giving my all to looking forward.