Grievers

Continuing with the theme of noticeable rhythms of grief, “Grievers” is the song that helped me process the loss of many of our friends moving away last year. That year, six couples of the eight or so in our inner circle of friends, left China. The reality of that loss and the intensity of the change we were about to experience hit me one night and so I sat down at the piano to just play something to sooth the heaviness in my heart. Two hours later at about 2am I had a completed song.


Meaning behind the lyrics:

Verse One: my first look at things through the lens of grief. I look around and see it everywhere—it feels like the rhythm to our pace of life here. Even the best of memories can generate sadness.

Verse two: the lens of grief creates a cynical view of relationships—that there are no good endings and every friendship ends with loss or change. Those thoughts stem from unresolved losses, hurts and fears.

Verse three: Sometimes it just feels good to feel sad. But, grief can be deceiving. It doesn’t always bring the release or the resolve I’m seeking. I don’t want to stuff my emotions, but at some point I have to orient my mind toward adaptation and pressing on. The music around me may sound sad, but I can still sing!


Bridge: The last lyrics are me saying, “someday I hope I’m well enough and whole enough to be able to say that I’m not a griever.” Of course, I’ll always be sad to a degree when I look back at these years and know that I won’t see most of these friends again or live together in the same community doing life together. But, I hope to keep processing, growing, and healing until the grief isn’t as intense or as debilitating.

This was the hardest and easiest song I’ve written so far. It was hard emotionally—there were times where I had to just stop singing because I was crying. But, it was also easy because the words were just coming out and fitting perfectly in place. I didn’t have to work at it like I have with other songs. That was a powerful experience because I discovered that song writing for me can essentially be a form of prayer—singing my burdens out loud because I know my Creator listens, knowing I’m free to process my emotions transparently and not hide anything. Writing this song with that mindset didn’t change my situation, but it did change me. It gave me peace and unlocked a new form of communication—a language that wasn't foreign and felt so natural rolling off my tongue, called, “songwriting.”