Sometimes I write. I don’t really think of myself as a writer, but I do write.
But there are times…when I just don’t have any words. Words fail me.
But music never fails me.
I can be totally wrapped up by a beautiful performance of Dvorak’s New World Symphony.
I can be brought to tears by certain hymns that remind me of my childhood.
I can be freed by the haunting melody of “Falling Slowly” from the movie “Once“:
“Words fall through me and always fool me and I can’t react”
And let’s not even talk about the national anthem. I tear up every.single.time.
Right now I have no words, so I’m going to share with you a song that’s been stuck in my head for a while now.
I couldn’t find a video or audio clip, but here are the lyrics:
There’s a whole lot of stubborn in this room
There’s a whole lot of pride that won’t let go
There’s a whole lot of stubborn in this room
That shows no sign of giving up control
I’ve drawn all the curtains
I’ve turned out all the lights
Scared to death somebody else might see
There’s a whole lot of stubborn in this room
And there’s no one here but me
There’s a whole lot of demons in this room
They want it all, and they don’t wanna share
There’s a whole lot of demons in this room
And none of them believe in fighting fair
Some sit on my left
Some sit on my right
They talk so loud it’s hard to disagree
I’m surrounded by the demons in this room
And there’s no one here but me
And I can’t quite remember how to pray anymore
I can’t quite remember what to say anymore
If it turns out that I can’t have my way anymore
How will I know which way to turn, when I walk out the door?
There’s a molecule of faith in this room
What they used to call the mustard seed
There’s a molecule of faith in this room
And a book that says that’s all I’ll ever need
I don’t know where it is, but I hope I find it soon
Cause nothing else will ever set me free
There’s a molecule of faith in this room
And even though it’s much too small to see,
If I have the courage to believe
I’ll find the one who left it here for me.
-Stubborn(Psalm 151), Lee Ann Womack