"that's when you sing out loud..."

I’m in the kitchen trying to figure out what my girls and I will eat for lunch when a text comes in from a close friend. “Are you home right now?” I usually am not on a Wednesday morning, but due to schedule changes I am indeed home with my younger daughter. When I tell her yes, she responds, “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Shortly, she arrives with a beautiful bouquet of daffodils and tulips, along with a bottle of wine and some dark chocolate. She knows me well. She is there long enough for hugs and a few minutes of conversation and then she is on her way again.

It is that time of year in Colorado when we are longing for spring. We have gorgeous days of sunshine and warm temperatures interspersed with days of biting winter cold. And even as the snow melts from our last storm, we know that we likely have a few more snowstorms to get through before spring will really arrive. We are at once delighted and worried when tulip or crocus leaves start to poke through the soil. Will they bloom or will they shrivel up in a hard freeze before the flowers can appear?

So every time I walk past these gorgeous spring flowers from my friend, they give me just a little spark of hope.

*********************

Last week was not good. Early in the week something happened that was like a fast and hard punch in the gut that has left me breathless and hurting. The word that has kept coming to my mind to describe the event is betrayal. I know that the other entities involved would balk at that word and explain why that response is a melodramatic overreaction, why it shows a complete lack of perspective on my part.
 

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Joe and I are picking the music for our wedding. We have settled on a somewhat somber but gorgeous instrumental Ray LaMontagne song, “Truly, Madly, Deeply,” for the processional. It seems like just the thing to bring a touch of beautiful gravity to this moment that will be set against the backdrop of the stunning Teton Mountains. Now we are trying to decide about the recessional.

We have a song that we keep coming back to. A song called “Dream Big,” by Ryan Shupe and the Rubberband. We both love this song, and think the chorus is perfect as we get married and prepare to head back to Rwanda together:

When you dream, dream big
As big as the ocean blue
'Cause when you dream it might come true
So when you dream, dream big

But we are discussing how people might respond to it because of the lyrics of the first verse.

When you cry, be sure to dry your eyes
'Cause better days are sure to come.
And when you smile, be sure to smile wide
And don't let them know that they have won
And when you walk, walk with pride
Don't show the hurt inside
Because the pain will soon be gone

We wonder, will people think it is funny for us to be talking about tears and pain and hard days seconds after we’ve said I do? Remembering that our vows do talk about better or worse, sickness and health, we decide to go for it. 

There is no way we can know that there will be a time in the not-too-distant future when we will desperately need these words on an almost daily basis. As we walk through my father’s death, and all the hurdles and hiccups of a transcontinental move, and Joe trying to finish his master’s degree in the midst of it all, and navigating a new job for me just weeks after having a baby, and a seemingly endless job search for Joe once his degree is completed — this song becomes a sort of mantra for me.

Again last week, I needed this song, and other songs. I think music, like poetry and written prayers, provides us with the words we can’t quite find during big or hard or beautiful moments. Another song I had on repeat this past week was “Shine Like Lightning” by Drew Holcomb.

Even when the rain pours down
Even when the light seems like it's fading
Even when your heart aches, feels like it's gonna break
That's when you sing out loud

I mentioned recently how often I have felt like I was completely without perspective in the last four years. That big terrible things and small annoyances can often elicit the same response from me. I have felt like this lack of perspective was a weakness, a problem that I needed to fix. I think I even thought I needed songs like these because they were about having perspective. “Hey, your problems are momentary. It’s not always going to be like this. It will get better.” And maybe that is part of it.

But this past week, I heard something different. Somehow last week those songs felt like the very opposite of having perspective. We often want — need — to dream and sing out loud not because we’ve got everything in perspective but in spite of our perspective or lack thereof. And maybe especially because of our lack thereof.

So I’m going to allow myself to stop worrying about regaining perspective for the moment. I’m going to allow myself to use words like betrayal.

But. And?

I’m also going to keep dreaming. I’m going to sing out loud.

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One night last week, I lay reading in bed until I could barely keep my eyes open, hoping to keep my brain distracted right up until the point I drifted off to sleep. I turned off my lamp and closed my eyes. But then in spite of myself I started replaying the past few days and I felt my heart rate quickening and my blood pressure rising and the hope of sleep slipping away.

And then suddenly it is the next morning. Evidently sleep did eventually come. It is time to get up but I am so tired. At lunchtime, I decide to go for a long run. As I run, my mind turns again to the events of the week. And then suddenly I hear the lyrics of yet another song playing in my earphones. It is Mumford and Sons’ “Winter Winds.”

But if your strife strikes at your sleep
Remember spring swaps snow for leaves
You'll be happy and wholesome again
When the city clears and sun ascends

And I think of the sleep that wouldn’t come last night. But as I run past patches of snow that are stubbornly lingering even in the warmer temperatures, I also remember the beautiful spring flowers from my friend.