Who Remembers the Words?

Soul's Song

“An anonymous poet defined a friend as someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words.”
David Ross

There are times when life is just too real. Sometimes we are confronted with losses and conditions that bear down on us until we’re squashed flat. That old saw that God will never give you more than you can handle is simply a crock. Perhaps not God, but life itself can give you far more than your share of pain and suffering. There's a character, Betty Meeks, in Larry Shue's play, “The Foreigner,” who is an old North Georgia country woman. When anyone asks, “How are you?” Betty always replies, “Runnin' down, wearin' out.” There are days when we feel just like Betty. Or like Ezekiel—set down in a valley full of bones. At those times we may forget the words to our soul's song. We may even question our faith and our ability to bear the hardships life serves up. That is when we need others to remember and sing our song for us.

When we're in the valley of dry bones, it is not helpful for others to mouth platitudes about the reasons this happened. Telling someone that it is God’s will for their child or best friend to die, or their marriage to end in divorce, or any of the other human catastrophes that befall us, is both harmful and cruel. Sometimes singing one’s song means we provide a cup of soup, a back-rub, and a listening ear. Sometimes it means we run errands, walk the dog, or keep the children. Sometimes it means we just sit with them in silence and hold their hand.

Just as Ezekiel called to the four winds to breathe life into those dry bones, we can be breath for one another. We can offer a compassionate heart and the understanding that kindness is a universal language. The day may come when we need someone else to sing our song, and the people who love us will remember the words. When you are overwhelmed by life, who sings your song?

In the Spirit,
Jane