But the other day, some lyrics broke through. I heard them through all of the noise in my head. I heard them through the sound of deadlines whizzing by. I heard them because I needed to hear them.

When you’re weary
And haunted
And your life is not what you wanted
When you’re trying so hard to find it

The last few months have been exhausting. I’ve come into a painful place of self-awareness. I know that healing will come–I desperately long for that time–but right now I’m just in the midst of plowing through things.

When the lies speak the loudest
When your friends are starting to leave
When you’re broken by people like me

That line there was the thing that caused my fingers to freeze on my keyboard. Because my lies are loud. They are constantly banging around in my head, shouting, screaming, drowning out everything else. And quieting them is hard. It takes enormous energy to pick them apart, to dig down to their foundation, to rip them up by the roots.

And I know that it’s frustrating for my friends. And I have great friends. But I so often push them away. And sometimes even with the best intentions, friends can say or do things that break me. Just like I do to them. We’re all imperfect, brushing against each other’s wounds, trying to make the best of this fallen world where we dwell.

I hurt too, I hurt too

Then this simple chorus brought tears to my eyes. I hurt too. I’m not alone. My hurt is real. It does not need to be minimalized. But it’s not just me. It’s not all about me. And when I can tear my eyes away from my own wounds, I gain valuable perspective.

When an ocean sits right between us
There is no sign that we’ll ever cross
You should know now that I feel the loss

I often feel so separated from my friends. Whether it’s a separation caused by physical distance or emotional, it’s a wide ocean to cross. And sometimes, I get in the middle of that ocean, and I can’t see the other side, and I feel battered and lost, like the storm will never end. But what peace there is in knowing I have friends who are doing all they can to guide me to the shore.

Even though you are drowning in valleys of echoes
I believe there is peace in those hills up ahead
You will climb ‘til you find places you’ll never let go
And I will also be here praying just like I said*

I do feel like I’m drowning sometimes. But there is peace ahead. I believe that. I have to believe it. And the climb is hard. And the peaks are often shrouded by fog. But I will make it.

Because my friends are praying.

Just like they said.

*I Hurt Too, by Katie Herzig

I literally get chills from a well-turned phrase. So, I would like to post for you, in no particular order, some of my favorite song lyrics. Consider this part 1. Because I know as soon as I hit publish, I will think of some glaring oversights.

And please, don’t just skim this post. Read the words. Let them soak in. Then go buy CDs by these artists. Because they’re phenomenal.

———-

The day’s last sight turns to cool night’s breeze
And this love hangs thick like these willow leaves
I’ve hid myself away from this
But your silhouette is the Judas kiss

-On a Night Like This, by Dave Barnes

———-

A thing resounds when it rings true
Ringing all the bells inside of you
Like a golden sky on a summer eve
Your heart is tugging at your sleeve
And you cannot say why
There must be more

-More, by Pierce Pettis and Andrew Peterson

———-

So he held her and he prayed
Shafts of moonlight on his face
But the baby in her womb
He was the maker of the moon
He was the Author of the faith
That could make the mountains move

-Labor of Love, by Andrew Peterson

———-

When they tell you all their troubles have been nailed up to that cross
Then what about the times when even followers get lost?
‘Cause we all get lost sometimes…

-Silence of God, by Andrew Peterson

———-

Jesus says Mother I couldn’t stay another day longer
Flies right by me and leaves a kiss upon her face
While the angels are singin’ his praises in a blaze of glory
Mary stays behind and starts cleaning up the place

-Mary, by Patty Griffin

———-

You could cry or die
Or just make pies all day

-Making Pies, by Patty Griffin

———-

But I’d pretend to be sleeping
When you’d come in in the morning
To whisper goodbye
Go work in the rain
I don’t know why
Don’t know why

-Top of the World, by Patty Griffin

———-

Long before I was covered up in gray
Before the old had bent my bones
We grew our children in the red Georgia clay
They were our garden and our home

-All That I Have Sown, by Bebo Norman

———-

Grace’s amazing hands, they’re ugly,
They’re bruised by the blows that I have blown.
She knows well I don’t deserve her,
But she laughs and says, That’s the way love goes.

-Grace’s Amazing Hands, by Dave Barnes

———-

It don’t matter if it has no taste, cause it’s all in the name
Soon they had a one brand town with pantries all the same
It left them with no appetite for stuff that broke the mold
And a faith that was as shallow as the milk left in the bowl of holy flakes

-Holy Flakes, by Andy Gullahorn

———-

I am Jerusalem, I am the temple of the Lord
Holy of Holies, the Lord dwells within
Lord God Almighty, maker of men.

-Jerusalem, by Randall Goodgame

———-

If you love
Be prepared to lose.

-Cartoon Auction, by Randall Goodgame

———-

I was standing at the gates of hell
with a heart as black as coal
and you saved my soul
so I sing…

The Wind, by Randall Goodgame

I’m not going to name names and tales too. But I will say that they were some of the rudest, most verbally abusive, and just plain mean people I’ve ever met. There were those who got up and moved to another table when I sat next to them. There was the band that made me stand outside of their tour bus in a thunder storm while they checked to make sure I got their take-out orders right…and then forgot about me. There was the  guy who made me carry all of his merchandise back to the tour bus while he sat and watched.

After being yelled at, berated and talked-down to, I would often walk back to my dorm, pull out those CDs that days before had ministered to me, and cracked them in two. Because I couldn’t handle the disconnect.

It’s now nearly ten years later. Finally, I can see that all of my experiences weren’t bad. I met some INCREDIBLE people through those experiences…people who I still am in touch with today.

But more than that, I’m trying to learn to give those people grace. To realize that, I saw a tiny moment in their lives. Maybe they weren’t feeling well. Maybe they missed their family. Maybe, I judged them too quickly, too harshly.

I’ll be honest, the memories of many of their actions still sting. And most of them–well, I still can’t listen to their music. But I’m praying for a forgiving heart, and a less judgmental mind. Not just for people I see in a fleeting backstage moment, but also for those I encounter daily.

And I’m trying to remember that I only see in part.

I’ve been going through a concert dry spell. A drought if you will. Most of my favorite artists just don’t get out to Colorado that often…maybe it’s the distance, maybe it’s my rotten luck of moving from a state at the exact moment said state discovers what great taste I have in music.

So imagine my delight, when I discovered that one of my favorite singer/songwriters, Andrew Peterson, was doing not one, but two concerts, but within 30 minutes of where I live. I invited two friends, one could go to the Friday show, the other to the Saturday show, so I made the sacrifice (ha) of going to both! And although the set lists were similar, the experiences were night and day!

Friday night, I met my friend Kristin for the show. She wasn’t familiar with Andrew, but was excited about the show. As we drove to the show, a thick heavy snow fell, turning the lawns and fields white, and coating our eyelashes with ice.

As the show progressed, I kept sneaking glances at Kristin, and was thrilled by the wide smile that never left her face. After the show, she turned to me and said, with tears in her eyes, that the show had filled a hole-one that she didn’t even know was there.

As we drove back to my car, we chatted, not about the concert, but about those deep emotions and thoughts the songs had brought to the surface. We pulled into the parking lot and kept talking, even as the snow blocked out the streetlights.

(As an aside, this was the only mistake of the evening. Because the drive home was horrible. And I thought I was going to die. And I almost called my mom and reminded her of the song I want played at my funeral…which just so happens to be an Andrew Peterson song!)

The concert Saturday was entirely different for me. Before the show, I headed to a park near the venue, and hiked for a few hours. As I wandered the trails, I did a lot of prayer and reflecting on some things God’s been teaching me lately. By the time I got to the concert, I felt pretty raw, emotionally. My friend who was going to the show with me had ended up having to work, so I sat there alone before the show began, sorting through thoughts, chatting with some people I met at the show.

And when the show began, my softened heart felt the words of each song. Songs that I had heard a thousand times before had me on the edge of my chair. Words and prayers and music all rattled around inside of my head. A lump formed in my throat. Hot tears brimmed under my eyelids. Truth, inspired by God, delivered through a man, spoken from a stage, filled my heart until it was fairly bursting.

I chatted with Andrew and the Captains Courageous after the show, and it was nice to see familiar faces from the past. They were kind and gracious as usual, and as I drove home, I thanked God for the way He had gifted Andrew, Ben and Andy…and that they had each chosen to glorify God with those gifts. And that I got to be a part of it.