The sung dialogue between Phillip and Anne in The Greatest Showman, as they swoop on a rope trapeze, is an ebbing and flowing of hope, doubt and possibility.
Phillip sings of rewriting the stars; creating a new outcome; a redefined fate.
Anne responds with all of the obstacles, hindrances and difficulties; although her heart too longs for a re-charted course.
It feels impossible.
I know I am sometimes like Anne.
Full of doubt, fear, insecurity, disbelief and negativity.
It feels impossible.
And sometimes it is. And we may need to accept that fact and grace-fully reorientate ourselves. Showing ourselves and others mercy as we wisely recognise that a particular course of action is not for us. Acknowledging the rightness of impossibility.
It feels impossible.
But sometimes it isn’t. And we need to accept that fact and grace-fully realign ourselves. Showing ourselves and others mercy as we wisely accept that a particular course of action is entirely right for us. Acknowledging the divine power of possibility.
Anne says that there are mountains and closed doors preventing the impossible from happening.
God tells us that mountains can be cast into the sea and that He stands knocking at doors.
And so, as we continue our ebbing and flowing conversations with God; the swaying back and forth of faith, fear, hope, trust, doubt ~ dipping and rising; soaring and dropping like a holy swinging trapeze.
It feels impossible.
Sometimes it is: so we leave the impossibles at the foot of the Cross.
If feels impossible.
Sometimes it isn’t: and we rise on Resurrection wings to new heights.
We’re running low on Friday Fix reflections. Following the recent bleak IPCC Report and the upcoming COP26 Gathering, we wondered if songs about change and/or the environment might prompt some ideas for contributions. Perhaps a season of ‘protest’ songs might be in order?
Anyhow – have a think and a shuffle through your record collection (physical or mental). Gill would love to receive a few reflections at thomasg@methodistchurch.org.uk. As always, don’t worry about format, editing and links to videos – we can do all of that.
Looking forward to an influx of songs in the next couple of weeks!
On March 15 2018 I was (as I said in my Facebook post at the time) playing out late on a school night. Along with my dad (the main source of my musical education), my sister and my brother (who’d been roped in last minute because my mum was ill) I had the immense joy of seeing the legend Joan Baez in concert at the Birmingham Symphony Hall.
What I was looking forward to the most was seeing this amazing woman sing ‘Diamonds and Rust’ live and, honestly, she didn’t disappoint in her delivery of that classic. But, as much as I love that song, it ended up not being my main memory of the night.
A few weeks before the concert took place, on February 14, a gunman had opened fire at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, killing 17 peopleand injuring 17 others. This terrible, tragic event became the most deadly high school shooting in American history (how sad that there is even a list), surpassing Columbine (1999) in its number of victims. It came at a time of increased support for gun control (following other mass shootings in 2017) and it prompted several Parkland students to start the #NeverAgain movement, advocating for tighter regulations that prevent gun violence.
In response to all this, Joan Baez sang the Bob Dylan song ‘The Times They Are A-Changing’ and dedicated it to those brave students, taking a stand against the NRA and turning their grief into action. I remember turning to my brother (who had been a very reluctant stand-in to take the spare ticket) and seeing tears streaming down his face, tears that mirrored my own as I reached out and took his hand.
As we were reeling from the emotional impact of Dylan’s ever-relevant lyrics, Baez moved into singing the beautiful song that this post is actually about. Written by Zoe Mulford, ‘The President Sang Amazing Grace’ tells the story of the 2015 attack on the Emmanuel AME Church in Charleston, which claimed the lives of nine of the church-goers. The title refers to the reaction of then President, Barrack Obama, when he attended the memorial service for the victims:
But no words could say what must be said For all the living and the dead So on that day and in that place The President sang Amazing Grace The President sang Amazing Grace
As Joan Baez sang this beautiful song, I swear the whole audience held its breath. It felt like a profoundly spiritual moment – a shared acknowledgement that some things are just too awful to comprehend, some feelings too big to articulate. I’m not ashamed to say that, at this point, my brother and I were practically clinging to one another and sobbing like babies.
This song has returned to me recently as I’ve been watching the news – in particular (but not only) the worrying events in Afghanistan, the tragic shooting that occurred in Plymouth and the aftermath of the awful earthquake in Haiti. I’ve watched the video, with some beautiful, hand-drawn animations that serve the song well, a number of times. The lyrics tell us that sometimes all we can do is share our pain with God, knowing that God is with us, that God not only understands but shares our grief and cries with us. We can lean on God and feel ourselves held.
“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” Matthew 5:4
I only discovered this song as summer ended last year (another thankyou to Greenbelt), as I was anticipating the departure of my firstborn for university. The words resonated, I was missing her and she hadn’t even left.
Hey hey I’m thinking I’ll miss you Hey hey I already do
She has three guinea pigs I was entrusted to care for, and each week after she’d gone, I found cleaning them out a bittersweet experience – doing something for her even tho she was no longer here, really feeling her absence, and also wishing she was here to be cleaning up the guinea poo herself! And so part of the ritual became playing this song whilst I did it, thinking about my sweetheart having the best days of her life.
These days are now the best days of your life
Don’t waste that worry honey, on other people’s fights
Dig hard
Be kind
Live long
And grow, grow, grow honey!
The words summed up some of my wishes for her – to not waste her energy on that which is not hers to worry about, something I think some of us can be tempted by!
And if the moment will cost me dearly I’m digging deep for you
And there was also a reminder to me – I think letting go can feel like it’s costing us dearly, and we do have to dig deep into our emotional reserves, but we grow as a result.
Press you thumbs into my shoulders And mark indelibly So I can look whenever I’m lonely And know you’re part of me
I know that there are indelible marks imprinted in my body and soul by my daughter and I’ve been grateful for them when I have found the separation hard. It’s been a tricky year to be apart, yet we’ve found new ways of relating (hurrah for video calling, and for being able to send all kind of loveliness through the post).
Sometimes a song happens along that just captures your attention and your heart straight away. Here is such a song for me. It’s as contemporary as they come having only recently been released as a single – and the title is also to be the title for their debut album when it’s released later this year.
I’m generally known to be a ‘glass half-full’, Pollyanna-type person – so it’s hardly surprising that I connected immediately with this song. It exudes joy, positivity, light and warmth through both the melody and the words. It deserves to be a summer hit because surely this song captures summer perfectly – buzzing bees, breathing and beauty.
But for all the optimism, there’s a gentle acknowledgment that life has darker sides to it. It recognises constraints through lines like ‘when one allows her to breathe’ and ‘let the children have the chance.’ The title itself encourages us to open our eyes wider to see ‘how beautiful life can be.’
The lead singer and songwriter of the group, Alex Moore, wrote the song last year, at the height of the pandemic following a conversation with his Mum. He says “I was just with my Mum just talking about stuff, and the words just kind of came out through the conversation, then I got a little melody for it. I just realised that things aren’t always as bad as they might seem, even though they seem terrible at the time. We always get through things, and life can actually be really beautiful.” (Far Out Magazine: 25/6/21)
One of the coping strategies that is commonly used by those who are struggling with stress, anxiety and worry is guided imagery (or taking yourself to a ‘happy place.’) The practice of closing your eyes, resting in a comfortable place or position, and imagining yourself in a place where you felt relaxed, happy and tranquil can have a calming and soothing reaction. The same can be found in prayer – particularly in practices like Centering Prayer and the Ignatian Daily Examen – which is why cultivating and nurturing prayer life is so important in faith-filled lives.
Music can help transport us to such places too. Listening to poetry and stories can do the same. I wonder how many of you were taken to a back garden in the summer sun, visually following a bee as it flitted amongst flowers as soon as you heard the first lines on this song?
So, I invite you to sit back, turn the volume up and enjoy a summery, breezy slice of a song appreciating life for two and a half minutes. It’s just how beautiful music can be.
Find out more about The Lathums (and where they are touring at the moment) by visiting their site at https://www.thelathums.com/#/
I’m not a massive crier. But there are certain things that always hit me in the feels and cause me to well up. One of those is stories of redemptive kindness.
It might sound a little grandiose, but I genuinely think these kinds of stories are transcendent. Somehow the stories touch our deepest humanity and kindle in us a sense of hope and wonder. It’s almost as if they epitomize all that is good about what it means to be human, and in doing so, connect us to a long lost sense of self. You might say they hint at the kind of interactions we deep-down-sense we might actually have been designed to experience.
I know I’m not alone in thinking or feeling this way. There are whole streams of media dedicated to stories of redemptive kindness that celebrate simple accounts of human goodness and the impact it can have on others.
I can remember the first time I watched Extreme Makeover Home Edition, and wept as Ty and team beautifully customised a new house for a lady and her 3 adopted daughters, all of which had been born with HIV. The completed project not only supported their particular health needs, but was a haven of peace that celebrated and fostered each of their passions and personalities. I was so moved by how blessed both the family and those involved in the development of the home were.
I experienced all the same feels the first time I heard this song by Foy Vance. Foy’s music is always raw and honest. He writes about spirituality, emotion, love and loss. This song is amongst his best. It’s a stunning musical tale about the impact that unconditional love can have on others – particularly those who are really in need or aren’t used to receiving such kindness.
It describes a woman in need of shelter from a (literal and metaphorical) storm; carrying the scars of drug-addiction from an abusive relationship. She has no money to pay for such shelter and so, in desperation, offers her body instead to a concierge. Instead of taking advantage of the woman’s vulnerability, the concierge offers her his own bed and some dry clothes, sits with her and nurses her as she experiences ‘cold turkey’, listens to her, comforts and encourages her, and just generally behaves as a decent human being. The crescendo of the song includes the following phrase and is the bit that always sets my eyes watering.
I was always taught if you see someone defiled
You should look them in the eye and smile
Take their hand or better still take them home
I find it impossible to hear these lyrics and not think of Jesus. After all, he was the master of redemptive acts of kindness. Not just on the cross, but in almost every interaction he had with those in need or who were used to being snubbed by others.
But the thing is, I’m also reminded that we all have the potential for the same acts within us. We are all created in the image of the divine son. And I’m certain that’s why TV shows like Extreme Makeover and songs like Indiscriminate Act of Kindness resonate so deeply with us and move non-criers like me to tears. They remind us of who we really are and how we’re really meant to be. Lavishly, unconditionally, loving. Simply, and unconditionally kind. That is what Jesus himself came to teach and Foy summarizes what it means to walk the way of Jesus well:
If you can help someone,
Bare this in mind
And consider it an indiscriminate act of kindness.
In the last 18 months or so, I’ve had a lot of people talking to me about “finding your song”. It may have been in worship or through a children’s story; through conversation and reflection on a radio programme or even through song lyrics themselves. It has even extended to those conversations about Simon Sinek’s work on “Finding Your Why” or discovering your core purpose. A sort of perfect storm then around discovering who you are and what really drives you. What is your song and how do you sing it with passion?
Into that space then comes this song from k.d. lang. It has such a lazy summer feel to it and yet it has at its heart a celebration of the unique individuals we are. The imperative to be true to yourself and all you can accomplish with what you’ve been given or learnt or seen as critical in life. How to be your true self and then what you do then with that discovery.
The story in your eyes
Spoke of all the things you realize and dream
The thing about finding your song or purpose is that it offers great joy. A kind of sweet spot moment but also comes with other questions and queries. If we extend the metaphor then. What happens if you’ve effectively lost your voice for while? What if someone, or some situation, has stopped you from singing? What if you’re in a choir and the rest of your friends want to sing something different? What if your song is a one hit wonder or maybe it’s a classic. How do you teach others to sing it if it has a complicated tune? How long can you sustain a solo without backing singers? You get the picture. How do you handle having to not be your whole self for a while knowing that at your heart there is a thread of being you can’t put down?
As a person of faith it never ceases to amaze me how critical song is biblically.
Songs of joy and thanksgiving. Psalms full of gratitude and despair. Songs of lament and sorrow in exile. Songs of love. Songs of realisation. In scripture then these songs are a representation of how people were discovering who they were and what they were for. People who knew from the start what they were being called to and what their purpose was. People who were unsure and on a voyage of discovery. People who had to be persuaded or discovered the hard way. People who didn’t like it. People who lived through some really tough stuff. Abraham. Moses. David. Hannah. Samuel. Jonah. Joseph. Jeremiah. Mary.
Each one with a unique story to tell and a significant “song to sing.”
It seems then that all this “song stuff” requires of us at least a little self awareness. Time to dig deep and find out who we are and how that plays out in our lives. Time to discover and focus for a while but then whatever you do and whatever your song……..
Sing it loud, sing it, sing it, sing it loud
So everyone knows who you are
Oh and by the way I Iove this bit:
When the days grow dark with confusion
You can always give your burdens to the music
It’s a real truth for me and I guess many readers of a blog like this. Ultimately I suppose, your song is what keeps you grounded but more simply the songs sung by anyone can sustain you and you can rest there for a while. Both literally and metaphorically of course.
You might prefer the dance version by Candi Station or the more chilled one by Florence and the Machine, but the energy and the lyrics in both versions of You(’ve) Got The Love are, for me, an excellent hymn.
Coming up for 8 years ago, I married Ben. I’m a Christian, he isn’t. We looked at the options of a civil ceremony or Christian ceremony, and it wasn’t legal for me to bring my faith to the civil ceremony context, and he was able to bring his whole self to the Christian one, so we married in our local Methodist Church.
‘You’ve Got The Love’ was one of our congregational hymns led by friends (of faith and not) who made a band for the day. Ben could sing the words as an aspiration for our love and I could sing them about that too, but also to God; Not as an aspirational thing, but with an assuredness.
If you watch the video here then you will also see that this song could also be Christ’s words as he heads to the cross (albeit with a non-orthodox ending in this film where he doesn’t go to his death on the cross, maybe to his death into the sea or maybe to freedom), but it’s the words I am focusing on, not the issues raised in this video!
You’ve got the love I need to see me through
There is much I like about this song, most of which is that each verse start with statements about rubbish things in life
Sometimes I feel like throwing my hands up in the air
Sometimes it seems that the going is just too rough and things go wrong no matter what I do
But there is one line which I struggle with
When food is gone you are my dailymeal
I don’t think literally this can ever be true of the love in our marriage, and also I struggle with it as part of Christian theology too
Give us this day our daily bread
Not everyone does have enough to eat. God doesn’t intervene and make it right, and therefore sometimes only rage can express the lived experience, and tagging on a ‘you are my daily meal’ doesn’t cut it.
In the Candi Station version, scattered in amongst the gloomy opening lines to verses is this one
Occasionally my thoughts are brave and friends are few
I can identify with this; occasionally I am brave too.
Occasionally I cry out Lord what must I do
And this for me feels like the wake up call about the angst I have about the previous verse. God does provide enough food, it is our systems make it unjust. So what must I do to make this right?
If I apply this back to the marriage and other human relationships, it is also a good question to ask then ‘ ‘what must I do’ to make this right? Or, a version of this I find more helpful in my life as I am discerning next steps is ‘what is mine to do?’
This helps to take the edge off the unhelpful protestant work ethic ethos within me, because the answer to this question implies that there are things that are NOT mine to do. And God has the love to see me through that too!
The Source are no longer making music together but you can find out what Candi Staton is up to here: https://www.candi-staton.com/
I’ve pinched the first couple of paragraphs from a Word in Time post I wrote last year – so apologies if it seems familiar…
When I was a teenager, and going through all the regular anxieties that the condition of being a teenager brings (worrying that I wasn’t ‘cool’ enough, dread of going to another day working in a Saturday job I loathed, exam stress, etc), I got into the habit of singing the old 1980s chorus “Be Bold, Be Strong” to myself.
Be bold, be strong
For the Lord your God is with you.
Be bold, be strong,
For the Lord your God is with you.
I am not afraid,
I am not dismayed,
Because I’m walking in faith and victory,
Come on and walk in faith and victory,
For the Lord your God is with you.
It’s a habit I carried with me into adulthood. I still catch myself singing it quietly when I’m about to do something that scares me. It serves to remind me that God’s got my back and that, even if I make a fool of myself or fail, God’s love for me won’t change. My perspective shifts a little when I sing this chorus and I remember that embarrassment is only temporary and God’s love and goodness is forever.
I share this with you to give you a glimpse into how my mind works, which will hopefully help me as I go on to explain why I’ve chosen to write about this song, best known from a Christmas movie and (if I’m being honest) a little bit on the twee side.
I spent Christmas Day last year on my own for the first time ever in my life. I know that 2020 was a difficult year for many people, and please believe me when I say I am not trying to win any sympathy competitions here! But, by the time Christmas Day rolled around, I was definitely exhausted and in low spirits. In the few weeks leading up to Christmas I had attended (virtually) the funeral of a friend; supported my partner through the disappointing results of a job interview; supported my sister as she navigated caring for her fiancé (who had broken his kneecap and found out his mum was very sick) whilst also completing her PhD thesis, struggled with a flair-up in my chronic pain and spent ten days at my family home helping to nurse my mum after emergency open-heart surgery. To top it all off, while at my parents’ house, I’d slipped in some mud and really badly injured my foot. In summary I was feeling pretty sorry for myself.
I did everything I could to keep my Christmas spirits up – I decorated my tree, made myself a turkey dinner and watched the different carol services on the television – but I kept finding myself feeling glum. Then, as part of my efforts to save Christmas, I started watching one of my all-time favourite festive movies, White Christmas.
I LOVE this movie. In particular I love Danny Kaye. I think that he and Vera Ellen dancing together and singing ‘The Best Things Happen While You’re Dancing’ beats, hands-down, anything that Kelly and Astaire ever did (I accept that some people may disagree). Usually it’s this bit of the movie – with Ellen’s ridiculously pink and foofy ball gown (I want that dress) swinging around the patio – that is the highlight for me. However, on this viewing, it was a scene that didn’t even feature Kaye and Ellen that caught my attention. Instead, it was the moment when Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney sing ‘Counting Your Blessings’ that made my ears prick up. Particularly (and this is when I start to come back, full circle, to how I use ‘Be Bold, Be Strong’, as I mentioned at the start of this post) the chorus:
When I’m worried and I can’t sleep
I count my blessings instead of sheep
And I fall asleep counting my blessings
Even as I say this I know how odd it sounds, but I really did feel God meet me in that moment. God met me in my tiredness, my worry about the wellbeing of my various loved ones, my grief for my friend, my loneliness, my pain. I didn’t feel condemned or guilty about the pity parties that I’d been throwing for myself, but I did feel my perspective shift. I wasn’t alone at Christmas because I had no one – I had lots of people who I cared for and who cared about me and I was only away from them because that’s what we had to do to keep each other safe in the pandemic. I started counting my blessings – the fact that the doctors had caught my mum’s symptoms in time to carry out the life-saving surgery, the friend who drove half-way up the M6 from the West Midlands to help me get home from Lancashire when my parents no longer needed my help, the luxury of having time off over Christmas to rest and sit in my pyjamas under a duvet watching Danny Kaye movies, the modern technology that not only allowed me to attend my friend’s funeral but also enabled the annual family Boxing Day Perudo championship to happen…
So now I have two ‘go-to’ choruses to sing to myself and help me shift my perspective. This kitsch little song reminds me of a time when I felt God meet me in my fed-upness and it helps me to practice gratitude – which we all know is a great way to boost positive mental health. As Psalm 118 (and another well-known sung chorus) tells us, “This is the day that the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.”
The Friday Fix 