David writes:

On a recent wet and windy holiday in the West Highlands of Scotland, I woke at around 3am, and unused to the darkness of the nighttime room, I searched the ceiling for the skylight. Instead of the cloudy skies I had become used to on the holiday, I found a clear sky with stars. As I was already awake, I decided to venture outside. The sheer number of stars that I could see took my breath away. Without the light pollution of the urban conurbations that I am used to, I could see so much more.

As the darkness illuminated the sky, I saw a shooting star track across the star-studded sky. It was a moment of intimate beauty that will be eternally etched into my memory, and it is salutary to realise that the human-created light that comforts and offers us security can also take away a dimension of our sight.

That which we seek sanctuary in can often be that which limits our horizons. This is not only true of light and our desire to illuminate everything to the extent that we cannot see clearly. It is also true of words. The sheer volume of words in our modern life can block out so much.

As clever, deep, meaningful and challenging lyrics shout at us from our tunes of choice, the still small voice, as an instrument, can be lost.

The voice is an instrument.

The Scottish shooting star was not the first I had witnessed. As a teenager, early in the morning, I stood halfway up to Hollins Cross from Edale on a midnight hike. A star shot across the clear sky, a streak of light only registering moments after it disappeared. Yet, still to this day, it is seen clearly on the canvas I have painted in my mind! When I reached Hollins Cross I stood and looked down seeing cloud creeping into the Hope Valley, like a hand searching out every crevice in the hillsides with its outstretched fingers.

‘Ella’ is a song of intimate beauty sung in a language I do not understand, and this allows me to hear the voice as an instrument reaching into my very being with its hands. Searching out every part of my soul with its fingers.

There is no story to fire my imagination, there is no poetry to move my heart and there is no protest to galvanise my spirit. There is just music with a strange guttural unfamiliar instrument. The purest form of instrument there is. This is not a finely crafted human-made invention played with skill, dexterity and hours of practice. This is a God-given gift, honed with hours of practice. It is music in its most divine incarnation, straight from the voice of the creator. As the notes rise and fall, I don’t sing along, I can’t sing along, but I listen and let the vocal line creep into the crevices that shape me and form me yet which I let no other see.

As the vocal chords resonate within my deeply buried being, so my soul is found and I’m communicating with God.

Find out more about Myrkyr at https://www.myrkurmusic.com/

Claire writes:

I first heard this song whilst I was driving home after work on a damp, dark, cold evening last December. I was listening to Radio 2, a recent discovery of mine. I love the wide variety of different music that is played on Radio 2 – some real good old tunes that remind me of when I was younger out clubbing in my hometown.

After some research, I found that this song comes from a film called ‘The Aeronauts.’ ‘Home To You’ is a ballad that fits into the narrative of ‘The Aeronauts,’ where two of the characters in the film mount a balloon expedition to fly higher than anyone in history.

This hauntingly different voice floated into my car filling me with a mix of emotions. The words of the song and Sigrid’s voice moved me to tears. The words really caught my breath…..

When I don’t know what to say

When I don’t know what to do

There’s a room I need to sit in

Surrounded by my favourite view

When I need a hand to hold

Someone to tell the truth

Would it be okay if I came home to you?

This song could be about so many things – about moving away from all that you know, experiencing loss or depression, or a change in direction. Maybe going through a difficult and challenging time – whatever that may be. But also having that comfort in a place to go to when things are difficult and overwhelming. But this song could also be about positive and good and taking time to appreciate those good things.

We have recently experienced big changes in our family. Our eldest son Jack is in his second year at university. He started Uni during the pandemic – it wasn’t a great start to university life. We resigned from fostering after ten years in August last year. This has been a massive adjustment to our family, and we are glad to have left behind all the stresses and strains that fostering has brought over those ten years. Thomas, who is 14, is enjoying for the first time being the centre of his Mum and Dad’s attention. I am being challenged by my own faith journey of being called by God and following that call with all the demands and expectations that this brings with it.

This song helped me to reflect that when I am stressed and sometimes completely overwhelmed by everything we are expected to do, I just want to retreat from the world, to sit and to crochet. God is my ‘go-to.’ I sit and I dwell with him. I pray. I love to be at home with God. The peace and the hope in knowing God is with me – whatever I go through – his love for me is amazing, breath-taking and overwhelming.

Sigrid sings.

No, I don’t wanna keep on calling

When I’m miles away

And you’re too far away

Oh, but if I need you to remind me

That nothing has changed

Would it be okay, would it be okay for you?

I know I can keep on calling on God and he will be there no matter what. He is my rock and my salvation, and I put on his armour every day. I do nothing in my own strength but with God by my side. We are all broken at times in our lives and God can give us the strength to pick up the pieces and to put ourselves back together, with joy and hope in our hearts.

Jesus shows us by example that it is ok sometimes to retreat in Mark 1 v 35 – “Very early in the morning, whilst it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place where he prayed.”. In Luke 5 again we hear of Jesus withdrawing to pray alone, in lonely places.

And I see the world so different now

‘Cause there’s a place by the sea and that’s my town

Our faith in God can make us see things so differently, and I am glad that God is ‘my town’ as Sigrid says in the words of the song.

The words are here in full for you to enjoy and reflect, and I would encourage you to listen to this beautiful song.

You can find out more about Sigrid at https://www.thisissigrid.com/

Couldn’t wait ’til I got outside

Wondering what the world be like

I knew I had to change my mind

Didn’t realize it would happen all so soon, all so soon

[Pre-Chorus] But I see the world so different now

But there’s a place by the sea and that’s my town

[Chorus]

When I don’t know what to say

When I don’t know what to do

There’s a room I need to sit in

Surrounded by my favourite view

When I need a hand to hold

Someone to tell the truth

Would it be okay if I came home to you?

[Verse 2]

Mmm Independence comes with a price

When questioning your own advice

But I know I’ll be alright

With an open door, no matter what I do, what I do

[Pre-Chorus]

Mmm, but I see the world so different now

But there’s a place by the sea and that’s my town

[Chorus]

When I don’t know what to say

When I don’t know what to do

There’s a room I need to sit in

Surrounded by my favourite view

When I need a hand to hold

Someone to tell the truth

Would it be okay if I came home to you?

[Bridge]

No, I don’t wanna keep on calling

When I’m miles away

And you’re too far away

Oh, but if I need you to remind me

That nothing has changed

Would it be okay, would it be okay for you?

[Pre-Chorus]

And I see the world so different now

‘Cause there’s a place by the sea and that’s my town

[Chorus]

When I don’t know what to say

When I don’t know what to do

There’s a room I need to sit in

Surrounded by my favourite view

When I need a hand to hold

Someone to tell the truth

Would it be okay if I came home to you?

No, would it be okay if I came home to you?

Jane writes:

In my house, we love a dancefloor filler. A track that brings with it a small amount of exhaustion, loud singing, and a sense of total abandonment. This is nothing new and actually, I think I’ve probably mentioned it before – such is the impact of it on my Spotify playlists!

So this one is a recent addition from the fab Rag ‘n’ Bone Man. I remember clearly hearing him on Dermot O’Leary one Saturday afternoon, long before ‘Human’ came out as an album and his now, all-immersing track of the same name. I remember being struck by the quality of his voice and popping something on my newsfeed that said something like……..

“Just heard this guy. He’s great. Check him out”

So in this track, if you can get past your tired feet and slight panting, you’d rather unexpectedly hear him sing a startling lyric. A commentary on the state of our society and what we value. A sense of how we have things out of balance.

Then, somehow, the relentlessness of the track makes more sense. Mirroring the relentlessness of people who are in a rut, blinkers on and seem to rely on what isn’t important or don’t have what they need, or can’t work out what it is they need. In many ways, it’s a lament about what was and what is left to replace it. The loss of community.

All the suits and the ties all march in a straight line

Deafening the sound of the helpless

It’s a city of a thousand heartbeats

No room for another soul

Stand in a line for the hole in the wall

’cause people still need cash to buy their freedom

Moving forward, walking back

Everyone is falling, but we don’t see them

A day away from a stroke of bad luck

Money’s slipping right through the crack

So is it what we really want?

Is it in reality all anyone ever wanted?

All we ever wanted??? I don’t believe it is.

It’s a shame we don’t know what we really have. And if it isn’t, or if you think it should be different then what is it that’s required of us to make a shift.

The writers of Proverbs remind us that to do righteousness and justice is more acceptable to the Lord than sacrifice and to open your mouth, judge righteously, defend the rights of the poor and needy – but what does that look like for you where you are.

How do you build a community that reflects and embraces what people really need/want? I don’t have an answer but am old enough to see how things have changed and wonder what needs to happen next.

The challenge today then is to play this full blast. Dance the life out of it and while you’re at it formulate a plan about a shift you can be part of – large or small. Be a small part of a bigger answer and enjoy the ride. In God’s Name.

You can find out much more about Rag ‘n’ Bone man here https://www.ragnboneman.com/

Lynne writes:

Sometimes it can be truly overwhelming to think about just how much mess and hurt and nastiness there is all around us. If you’re someone who cares about seeking justice and fairness (and I’d suggest that Christians should definitely fall into that category) then working to make the world a better place can feel like (to borrow one of my brother’s favourite expressions) “chasing unicorns” – a never-ending task that, on the bleakest days, seems doomed to failure. The temptation, when faced with apparently insurmountable challenges to peace and justice (such as the climate crisis, endemic racism, an ever-increasing poverty gap, violence against women and countless numbers of displaced people seeking asylum from war or human rights abuses), is to knuckle down and work even harder. Activism is, after all, primarily about action.

This notion of ‘I just need to work harder’ is driven by fear and the primitive bit of our brain that is designed to protect us by pushing us into fight or flight mode, which can be exhausting when experienced over prolonged periods of time. Simply throwing ourselves into the relentless grind of work – even for the sake of a good cause – can seriously damage our resilience and our mental and emotional wellbeing – leading to issues such as burnout.

So, what’s the answer? I’m a huge fan of the work of Jo Musker-Sherwood, who, after experiencing burnout herself, founded Climate Emergence (www.climateemergence.co.uk) to help people manage climate anxiety. I’ve heard Jo speak a few times and she often talks very eloquently about practising an ‘abundance mindset’ – doing things for the joy of doing them and because the actions align with our values – as opposed to a ‘scarcity mindset’ that is driven by fear – we act because we’re scared of what will happen if we don’t.

I attended a recent event where Jo elaborated on this idea, speaking about the importance of our worldview and how it informs our activism. The stories we tell ourselves (for example, “We’re all doomed!” or “The world is just too selfish…”) can be self-fulfilling prophecies and can feed our fears, allowing the primitive ‘fight or flight’ part of our brain to overpower the rational, creative, grounded part of our brain. Our brains are hard-wired and all too ready to notice the danger all around us but, as Jo says, while this might help us to survive, it doesn’t help us to thrive. It takes more energy and more intentionality to notice the good, to practise gratitude and to tell ourselves the more positive narratives.

This (finally!) is where my choice of song for this week’s blog piece comes in. I think I’ve mentioned in a previous Friday Fix that I find it helpful to sing particular choruses to myself from time to time. It’s my way of shifting perspective and reframing how I look at things. Here’s one of my favourites, from ‘A Drop in the Ocean’, written and performed by (in their own words) the world’s favourite comedy-rap-jazz duo, Harry and Chris:

The way things are is not the way they have to be

Nobody’s asking you to save the world single-handedly

Tomorrow will bring worries of its own

But for every step today, there is less that’s left to go.

They say it’s just a drop in the ocean

As if that’s a reason to stop

Well maybe they’ve forgotten the ocean

Is literally made up of drops.

The song takes the perspective of someone living in the future, talking through time to a relative living today. It hopefully predicts that, despite the fact we are bumbling along a bit, we do eventually make it to a sustainable world. Whilst ’A Drop in the Ocean’ is primarily about the climate crisis, the main message could be applied to any number of injustices or challenges that seem overwhelming. I find singing it to myself really does help me to have a more positive worldview (an ‘abundance mindset’) when I start to worry that I am chasing those unicorns! It reminds me of the much-used quote from the late, great Archbishop Desmond Tutu: “Do your little bit of good where you are; it’s those little bits of good put together that overwhelm the world.”

There’s also this wonderful quote from the singer Paloma Faith (who is also wise and inspiring, just in a different way to Archbishop Tutu):

“If there was a crisis and a plea for money tomorrow and everyone in London alone (population nine million) donated 50p then we would raise £4.5million instantly, imagine if it was the whole country? Kindness is the same, if we all donated a few kind gestures a day, and let a few more petty things slide, the world would be better. It can be big or small. No contribution is too little and no gesture too big and by all means allow yourself to enjoy it. Donate your ear, your time, your food and even your money if you want and then after you have, feel good about it! Why not? Kindness comes in many forms and you can spend as much of it as you like without breaking the bank.” (www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/entry/kindness-change-world_uk_5a8be2c7e4b0a1d0e12ca00b?m8u)

I love the idea that every time I (to steal another turn of phrase from Jo Musker-Sherwood) ‘do the next right thing’, I am adding my 50p to the global bank of kindness – or my drop to the ocean that will overwhelm the world with good.

One positive narrative that I can tell myself, to support my abundance mindset, is that the work is not mine to do alone. There are millions of amazing people across the world who are passionately working for justice, who hold compassion as the highest value, who believe in showing hospitality and kindness to the stranger… Not only that but I believe in a God whose love for me – and for all of us – is not determined by how hard I work or how ‘good’ I am – but is rooted in grace.

Taking time to remember and connect with God’s grace is so important. The Bible is full of examples of how God can take our little and turn it into a lot. From David versus Goliath (1 Samuel 17: 40) to the feeding of a multitude with a boy’s meagre lunch (John 6: 9) and from Jesus’ parable of the mustard seed (Matthew 17: 20) to his reminder of the importance of a tiny bit of yeast in the dough (Matthew 13: 33).

Of course, one other great way of supporting our resilience and our mental and emotional wellbeing is through finding time for laughter – and for that I’d encourage you to look no further than the brilliant Harry and Chris!

“Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine” Ephesians 3: 20

Gill writes:

The Ancient Greeks were fascinated with love and believed that there were 8 types:

Friends – for whom we have ‘philia’ – take on a new significance in our teenage years. Friendships become more intense, important and supportive. They become the first people you turn to when things aren’t going right, and the parent or carer might feel relegated to looking on from the sidelines.

It’s within these relationships and groups that we learn more of our identity, of what we value, and of what we believe in. They are a fundamental aspect of our human development and it’s probably when we begin to realise that we want to love and protect others who are not part of our ‘family’ or those we’ve been brought up with.

This song reminds me so much of one of my teenage mates. For about 3 years, we were pretty inseparable. We hung out at school, at youth fellowship, at the pub, in each other’s bedrooms. We went to MAYC London weekends, parties of every kind and she was the first person I went on holiday with ‘sans parents.’ We were more like sisters than friends.

And this was the theme song for our friendship (well – ‘Words’ by FR David figured for a bit but I’ll sweep that under the carpet). It was the backdrop to hair-styling, layering on make-up and the amateur fashion show that took place in many an 80’s teenage bedroom.

Thanks to the recently-released film ‘Belfast’ directed by Kenneth Branagh, ‘Everlasting Love’ has crept back into my consciousness (and playlist) – and that sense of philia returned with it. I am forever thankful that this friendship existed when it did, and the first couple of lines had a particular meaning then and now.

Hearts go astray, leaving hurt when they go
I went away just when you needed me so
Filled with regret I come back beggin’ you
Forgive, forget. Where’s the love we once knew?

My friend used to belt out these words so her Mum ‘could hear them in heaven.’ The regret she carried, you see, is that each day when her Mum was terminally ill, she would pop in to say ‘goodbye’ before she went to school. The only time that she didn’t say goodbye was the day that her Mum died. The act of saying goodbye for my friend became incredibly important – in fact, one time she phoned me up when I’d got in from a night out to say that she couldn’t sleep because she’d forgotten to say ‘goodnight’ to me earlier.

Her regret at not saying goodbye taught me the value of saying ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ to people, but especially ‘goodbye.’ My inner word geek is particularly excited by the idea that ‘goodbye’ is a contract version of ‘God be with you’ – so as you’re waving someone off, you’re asking God to be with them too.

Ironically, I never got to say goodbye to my friend. College went and working life came; new friendships and relationships swept in and our worlds moved apart. I found out that she died when she was 37 so I guess I can’t wish her ‘goodbye.’

Instead, I sit with great memories filled with philia that will last forever – and this cracking song about ‘Everlasting Love.’ Goodbye Pam.

Marc writes:

I’ve always appreciated the sounds that “Imagine Dragons” put together, but never remember that I like them for very long. I’m listening back over some of their newer and older stuff, and the lyrics are jumping out at me too…

Something about the way that you walked into my living room
Casually and confident lookin’ at the mess I am
But still you, still you want me
Stress lines and cigarettes, politics and deficits
Late bills and overages, screamin’ and hollerin’
But still you, still you want me

Oh, I always let you down
You’re shattered on the ground
But still I find you there
Next to me
And oh, stupid things I do
I’m far from good, it’s true
But still I find you
Next to me

There’s something about the way that you always see the pretty view
Overlook the blooded mess, always lookin’ effortless
And still you, still you want me
I got no innocence, faith ain’t no privilege
I am a deck of cards, vice or a game of hearts
And still you, still you want me

So thank you for taking a chance on me
I know it isn’t easy
But I hope to be worth it (oh)

Having done a little bit of research, there’s plenty of acclaim for the honesty and integrity, the vulnerability and rawness of the lyrics that Imagine Dragons use throughout their material.

Dan Reynolds, the band’s main vocalist is quoted on their Spotify Bio as saying:

“Instead of hiding behind metaphors, I was able to be more direct in my lyrics… I really focused on search deeper for lyrical value. Right now the world can seem like a very dark and daunting place. We wanted to create something like a lot of the records we grew up on, where it feels like you’re escaping into a world that’s much more vibrant. Our hope is that it (the album, “Evolve”) helps people focus on the beauty of each moment, and really see all the brilliance and colour of life.”

In the faithfulness of the lyricist (Reynolds) to his life and experience, which is likely influenced by his Mormon upbringing, there’s something that becomes accessible to anyone who has a faith, or indeed anyone who has known a love so deep that it gets right down next to you when you fall.

And if you’re anything like me, when you realise you’re onto a winner with the friends, lovers and family around you, and the kind of God that I know, you can’t help but marvel that they’re still “next to me” in spite of the stupid things I do; still want me even though I’m a mess… And at that point there has to be a recommitment in gratitude for them taking a chance on me.

The real beauty is that I will never justify the cost of God taking countless chances on me, but whether I see it or not, he deems me worth it… so I’ll try and try and try and keep getting up.

Find out more about Imagine Dragons at https://www.imaginedragonsmusic.com/