Psalm 13

This is exactly where I am presently.

Psalms 13:1-6 NLT

O Lord , how long will you forget me? Forever? How long will you look the other way? How long must I struggle with anguish in my soul, with sorrow in my heart every day? How long will my enemy have the upper hand? Turn and answer me, O Lord my God! Restore the sparkle to my eyes, or I will die. Don’t let my enemies gloat, saying, “We have defeated him!” Don’t let them rejoice at my downfall. But I trust in your unfailing love. I will rejoice because you have rescued me. I will sing to the Lord because he is good to me.

How long? Why? BUT(and it’s a big but) I trust. God, You’re good. You love me. And I WILL keep praising You, thanking You, because You are faithful and Your promises are my armour.

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SEARCH ME (a song-prayer from Psalm 139:23-24) by Autumn Dawn Leader

The Psalms are the song-book of Israel. They were written as prayers to be sung. Praying isn’t complicated, it’s communication. But, that being said, how often do we all stumble in communicating well? I often find my heart’s words in the words of the Psalms – and I sing them out, praying the ancient words as if they were just as appropriate, applicable and relevant today…because they are! This is a prayer of devotion, of consecration… a help me, cleanse me, lead me, guide me prayer. Sing/pray along with me today.

Music Has Feet

I  will admit that my last post was quite a downer and, to be honest, I’m still wrestling and struggling with it (as I have done all my life…but, I digress, and before I drag this post down into the unhappy realms of “the tortured artist” I will continue on), but today is Valentine’s Day and I have a – hopefully – uplifting post for us all!

First off, Happy Valentine’s Day! Whether you are romantic or not (I’ll admit it, I’m a BIG romantic), I hope this day is a good one for you, filled with phileo (friendship, brotherly/sisterly affection), eros (ahem, nudge, nudge, wink, wink) and, most of all, agape (unconditional love, not based on or controlled by feelings: the love that never fails or gives up or comes to an end…real love, in other words) and, of course, filled with music (which could be argued to be the REAL “language of love”).

I want to share the Valentine’s card that my youngest daughter made for me. One, because I’m proud of her (clever girl that she is) and, two, because of the great message I think her card conveys for us all – for all the makers and lovers of music.

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On the envelope, she drew me and made my legs and feet look like musical notes. On the card she put feet stickers onto musical note stickers. She knows me pretty well, I’d say.

 

 Music moves. It walks. It travels (far and wide).

Music has feet!

It goes through boundries…to reach, to touch, to move us.

 It carries us.

Borne along on the notes, the chords, the melodies, the harmonies, the (sometimes) lyrics, we are…

transported.

 

I love the sentiment my perceptive 5 year old shows in this card: that her mummy’s music has feet, feet to get out there. It isn’t bound. It has feet! There’s a lot of encouragement in that. No, it doesn’t change what I said in the afore mentioned depressing post…but, it helps me see the bigger picture more clearly.

 

Music has feet. MY music has feet. And, here’s to hoping that it travels well, swiftly, and makes its destination: your heart.

 

Unsurprisingly, I will leave you with a song. A song about love. A song about real love. However (perhaps this will be more of surprise), I’m not leaving you with one of my songs (if you want my music, it’s not difficult to find), but I am going to leave you with the brilliant Scottish folk singer/songwriter Dougie MacLean‘s “This Love Will Carry”. It seems especially appropriate on this day.

 

It’s a thin line that leads us and keeps a man from shame
And dark clouds quickly gather along the way he came
There’s fear out on the mountain and death out on the plain
There’s heartbreak and heart-ache in the shadow of the flame

CHORUS:
(But) this love will carry. This love will carry me
I know this love will carry me
 
The strongest web will tangle, the sweetest bloom will fall
And somewhere in the distance we try and catch it all
Success lasts for a moment and failure’s always near
And you look down at your blistered hands as turns another year

(CHORUS)
 
These days are golden, they must not waste away
Our time is like that flower and soon it will decay
And though by storms we’re weakened, uncertainty is sure
And like the coming of the dawn it’s ours for evermore

(CHORUS)

 

The Little Girl with the Big Voice

End of music (well the industry, that is) announced at the Grammy Awards. How do we feel about this one, eh?

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I remember, when I was young – when I was the little girl with the big voice – I would sit and watch the Grammy’s every year, picturing myself receiving award after award… writing my acceptance speeches in my head.

 

When the years went by and I was never properly discovered by anyone with the power to do something about the little girl with the big voice and I just became that young woman with the interestingly deep voice (whoa, run-on sentence there), I kept hope alive somewhere inside me, but slowly, over time, and with age, it shrivelled up while never fully dying.

 

Now, realising “I had a bottle full of dreams…” (you know the rest, or hopefully you do, if NOT, click the link!) – I have accepted that it would be a major achievement just to fight for any and all crumbs I can get, and make the most of my talent where and when I can, and hopefully make some money at it (because I can’t do anything else) while touching people with my music (which is, ultimately more important than the money, but I do need to eat). Again, just a dream, really. The dreams get tinier and tinier and still they seem impossible. Sad.

 

I’m old. I’m tired. I’m still dreaming… but I know I fight a losing battle. And, I guess that’s the way it is with something you love so much, something that is SO much a part of the fabric that makes you you that you cannot for a moment separate you and the music – you just CAN’T let it go. Even though you know you should give it up, you can’t do it…it’s like cutting out your own heart. And, I see those who never dreamed they would be something in music, being HANDED a career on a flippin’ silver platter – and that is hard. I wish them well, I bear them no ill will… but people need to understand, it is extremely hard for me to take. Especially when I know I’m just as – if not more – talented. The little girl cries, “IT’S NOT FAIR!” And, it isn’t. Life isn’t.

 

Part of me thinks… YAY, let the industry end. I never made it the old way, and I’m not making it the new-fashioned, digital way either. I think, “Let music just be music, made by and for those who love it, in homes by the fireside, shared with those close and dear. But let the industry, and their unfairness, double-standards and hopelessness (for artists like me), go ahead and die.” But then, the little girl with the big voice (and the even bigger delusions) rears her head and hopes in vain (and in pain) for the career and the recognition and the accolades she will never have, and I know that regardless of whether the music industry is dying, there is one that most certainly needs to die: the little girl needs to die.  

 

Alas, I just don’t know how to kill her off.  😦