Why Not Sad Worship Songs?

There have more than a few things that have made me sad in the last months.  Just two short months ago we moved our family from our home in Asia to a very strange, unknown place called "America."

We didn't think it would be strange, after all we have visited many times over the 9+ years we have been committed to our work in Asia.  But when we returned this time, realizing that we won't be returning to our home, sadness surrounded us.

Many of our best friends live in Asia.  When will we ever see them again?  Most memories our kids have of their short little lives were all left back there.  The places, the smells, the food and the fellowship was all left behind.  We learned how to live life there, and now we have to learn to live a new kind of life in a new kind of place that is very different that when we left it.

Combine all of that with the reality that returning back to America has been both confusing and disorienting and you might gain a glimpse of one of our uncomfortable feelings—sadness.

Of course we are thankful to be closer to friends and family that we haven't been able to be close to since living in Asia.  In fact, the reality of this feeling with the other further exposes the incredible paradox we are facing.

So today, sitting in church I had one question: Why can't we sing some sad songs sometimes? Throughout Psalms (many of which were put into songs) there are many that carry a different tune that the songs I heard today.  For example:

Why, O Yahweh, do you stand afar off,

and hide yourself in times of trouble? Psalm 10

It's not that life is always sad, but sometimes it is and it's the inherit reality of living in a fallen world. David sang about hard things, had the worship leader sing songs about hard things, and wrote many, many words about the depressing nature of certain things.  

Could it also be said that acknowledging the hardship of life in song increases the deep joy of all things?  When I pray and talk with God about the things that are making me sad it causes me to want even more deeply to end each prayer declaring his promises that He is God, He's sovereign, He's in control.  

I've heard many say that the cure to sadness is to think of all the good things you have ("turn that frown upside down").  This formula is hard to swallow though because it puts "sad" in the category of "bad" which can't be right.  Is it wrong to be sad?  Does God demand his children never suffer? Even just a glimpse at the last days of Jesus' life show that not to be the case.  He cried.  It's hard for me to claim the simplicity of his life in this way though because the expression of these kinds of emotions in men nowadays is often equated with weakness—not something we admire culturally in men.  Weakness feels like shame, which doesn't feel good.  So when we say, "Just think on the bright side" instead of plainly sitting in the ashes of certain realities, I think we are missing the mark.

When the sun shines bright and the days are pleasant, I see no immediate reason to seek after songs or poems that talk of sadness.  Nobody wants to seek after sadness.  Yet before it comes, it might be wise to prepare our minds with the truth that sad isn't bad and sometimes it would be nice to connect with those deep painful notes with a song or two.

If you know of any old or new Hymns that might sound like the Psalm above, would you share it?

Mr. Huang, I need one last ride to the airport

For years we have preempted our flights to the states by calling up an independent taxi driver and arranging a time for them to take us to the airport.  This time, though, will be the last time we ever call up our favorite driver Mr. Huang. After almost a decade in Asia, we are moving back to the states.

According to Managing Transitions, there are three stages of transition. Our family has gone through these stagesany times at many different points already. However, the transition we are just entering into is the largest we will walk through yet.  

How do you leave a place that has been home for years with no plans to return?  How do you say goodbye to people that you may never see again? How do you part with a culture, food, lifestyle, a continent that you might never come back to as a family?  How do I explain to my kids that the food they have grown up eating won't be available anymore, or that we won't be bumping into their friends at Church anymore?

The first stage in the transition cycle is called "Ending, Losing, and Letting Go", and it feels like this:

• Fear.
• Denial.
• Anger.
• Sadness.
• Disorientation.
• Frustration.
• Uncertainty.
• A sense of loss.

We haven't had to say goodbye to our dearest friends yet, we still have a few days before we board the plane, but we are already feeling all of these emotions.

With the scope of this transition the depth of sadness and feelings of loss are already very pronounced.  At this point the mere thought of the goodbyes we will say brings tears to both my wife's and my eyes. 

We are just days away and yet we find ourselves struggling to pack, or decide what we will eat for lunch. Disorientation feels like we are walking around in a world we don't recognize anymore. We are busy, but don't know what to do with ourselves. We want to enjoy food from our favorite restaurants one last time, but can't seem to find the energy to walk out the door.

So, in full disclosure, our family is stressed, tired and doesn't look like it normally does. Our request from you would be patience for us during this trying time. If we seem distant, it's because we are struggling to leave the only home we have ever known as a family. 

But we value you and need you. Our lack of ability to reach out doesn't mean we don't want you to. We know that isn't fair, but right now we can't offer much besides a bit of honesty. 

One Word

It's the little things—the unspoken thoughts and a quiet whisper when it happens. And it's fast—just a moment, ONE moment, a sliver in time.

It happens when I compare

Or when I get scared.

Insecure. Beaten down. Lonely.  Lost.

I call on the truth of scripture, and I'm still insecure, beaten down, lonely and lost.  

Did I do it wrong?  

Maybe I should just sit here...  A little longer, eyes closed tighter, 

hands clasped strong.

It's an epic battle felt in my chest—my heart squeezing and releasing, blast by blast.  

How much longer can this go on?

I'm not strong enough to run this race. 

"Believe more, say it louder" they tell me.  

Nothing changes, now I'm deeper in disgrace.

And that is when it happens.  

It's just a moment, but it's the kind I can never forget.  

I expected a fury but a flutter is all I felt. 

It sent a shock wave deep into my heart...  And everything froze.

That's the moment that I don't dare speak.  Don't move.  I'm compelled to a powerful stillness.  

Take. one. breath.

It's a flood of presence.  All space is occupied around me and I can't move.  Loneliness is gone. Confusion, gone.  My pain ... Gone.  I can't fight, can't run, cant look away. Everywhere I look I see him occupying that space.  There's no escape, 

Even if I wanted it.  Only one choice, I must be still and acknowledge

It. Is. Here.

I hear one word, one blast like the crack of a cannon, 

And it fires straight at me with a force you can't fathom.

One word, That's all I hear.  In that moment when all this happens.  As it starts it rings like Distant thunder, as it's spoken it explodes around me, the windows of my soul shudder, 

And I'm terrified.

But not like before.

I feel the strongest force I've ever felt,

This word, the word it gives me is it's channel,

But the voice it's carried on reveals it's strength.

All fears all failures all pain all regret are challenged, then quieted.

Their previous torment seemed all-encompassing,

Now they're as nothing.  This voice, with it's word has sent the darkest of evils fleeing, now Their voices are silenced, annihilated.

That's the moment when it happens, 

When that word is spoken by that voice.

It's only me, and only . . . him.

Now I see, but mostly feel

An intense strength, everywhere, real.

He drew me in, starting with his word then his voice, the touch, and now my attention is Transferred off of me and onto him.

I'll never be the same again.

This is that moment when all is clear 

And I comprehend

What happened that let me get away from him.

That word he spoke that changed it all,

The quintessential inescapable. 

A reflection of who he is personally,

The very word that set me free . . .

Is a secret mystery, known only to me.

And that's our hope, our joy, reward.

Not a thing, a token, or secret password.

It's the intimacy we have with him,

That he speaks sweet words to us and forgives our sin.

So rage on darkness toward whatever extent.

Because my dear Jesus

Will

Not

Relent.

And just like that, the moment is over.

Chaos brought to order once I let Jesus bring closure.

Everything in me that pulled me down,

Was swept away at once

By the one with the crown.

It was a moment that brought life.

He carried me through

It came and it went.

Now onto breath number two . . .