Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a desire fulfilled is a tree of life. I had a slump recently. One of those “nothing is working - what have I just done to myself and my family - what made me think I could do this - I’m not ready - I’m not good enough - what kind of a man leaves a stable position and replaces it with income-less dreaming” kind of slumps. Have you ever had one of those?
Meeting new people every day means I have to tell my story over and over again. In some ways, that has reinforced and strengthened my faith and my belief that we’re here for a reason and it will all work out. In other ways, it has been opening up opportunity to just dwell on all my insecurities in this journey (listed above) of discovering who I am and what my true potential is as an artist—a songwriter.
A Labor-Day trip to a lake near our home was just what I needed to break the cycle of self-sabotage. The scenery was enough to pull me back into some of the powerful imagery and metaphors that have been so meaningful to my prayer life throughout the last 18 months, namely that of “wilderness.” I was at that lake with family and friends so I didn’t have time to sit and write down all of my thoughts, but I was sitting down and taking a break. Actually, I sat on the lakeshore with my youngest daughter in my lap for nearly 45 minutes (amazing for a 2 yr old!). After just a brief moment of looking around at the tranquil scenery, my daughter still on my lap, my mind took off to the songwriting realm—its almost a trance like experience for me when this happens...and I feel it coming when it does. The world around me goes dim and another world inside me somewhere begins to brighten. I literally tune out the noise around me and enter into another time & space. Not sure how I do it, but it happens naturally. It tends to NOT happen when I have a pen and paper in front of me. I’m still working on figuring that out. But, I do know they are my best songwriting moments. I get them a lot, actually, but about 8/10 never get written down. Anyway, in that moment, I began singing these words in my head—“Oh Love… I’m lost again… but I hear your voice in the wilderness.” I started singing it in my head on repeat—hearing layers and layers of sound building one on another, each added layer giving the sound more power and more air to float or drift up toward heaven. I envisioned this song being less of a “song” per se and more of a journey through an audio soundscape. It is more of a meditative prayer set to music… it is musical incense rising... to the One whose voice shakes the wilderness in me. I needed my wilderness shaken up again. I was getting sucked back down into despair—self-limiting beliefs and fears. So, I offered up a plea for His nearness, for light, for guidance, for confidence, for answers. And I felt so much better when I did!
The ending of the “song” simply states, “I am holding on to You.” That part wasn’t in the original writings in my journal (I wrote things down when I got home). I sang that while recording the song. The only explanation I can think of is that as I sang the previous lyrics over and over while recording I realized there was something missing that my heart wanted to say. I wanted closure to this prayer and so with the record button still enabled, I sang those words, “I am holding on… I holding on… I am holding on to you.” And it felt right ending it that way.