Melodies & Mourning

UNSPECIFIED - JANUARY 01: Photo of Etta JAMES; Posed studio portrait of Etta James (Photo by Gilles Petard/Redferns)
(Photo by Gilles Petard/Redferns).

Lady Antebellum. Yo-Yo Ma. Etta James. Bobby Womack. India.Arie. Quite an eclectic music mix. In my journey of grieving losses the melodies of these musicians helped me heal. I feel the grace of God as I realize mourning is not a one-size fits all experience.

2013: A Year of Loss

I lost much in a span of seven months. A beautiful 82 year-old grandmother named Lena Mae who I believed secretly had a superwoman cape hidden under her clothes. She was just incredible – laughter and love wrapped up into southern hospitality at its best. She was safe. She was human. And she was mine.

Ten days after my family buried her I was rear-ended by a driver who lost control of her vehicle. The collision totaled my car, which was given to me as a gift six years prior and paid for. The physical impact of the crash required six months of chiropractic rehab for my neck and spine.

The emotional trauma left me with diminished mental capacity, anxiety driving and a fragile heart that wondered “Why would God allow this much pain in such a concentrated way into my life?”

On the heels of these experiences, I also lost the opportunity to mentor children I tutored for three years at a local community center. The center closed due to low funding. Seeing the kids for the last time, I tearfully said goodbye and thought “This is not the way it’s supposed to be.”

Two more losses took place in 2013 – in the spring and at the year’s end – also pouring into this concentrated funnel of pain. My pastor of eight years resigned abruptly. Significant transitions were coming at my job and several people would be leaving following spring.

At times I couldn’t find words to describe the perfect storm of the grief I felt and the hurt that lingered.

When My Words Left

Music became my interpreter. It reminds me I’m alive – in all of its gritty blues, playful twang, honeyed rhythms and sweet succession of its sounds.

Music tells me I will sing again. And when my words left me, melodies took their turn to help me heal.

These specific melodies are my feelings – vulnerable, contemplative, transparent, gutsy and real. I believe when there are no words there is definitely a set of chords that will play the truth of the heart.

Grief silenced my words for a very long time. Music helped me find them. These songs gave me the gift of dreaming again. They aren’t specifically about grief but they amplify my emotions as I’ve discovered how to live from loss. I created my own “Mourning and Living” playlist from these songs:

Words TypewriterLady Antebellum’s “Somewhere Love Remains” is slow and purposeful. It’s full of acknowledgment and asks for pursuit in its hopeful country melody.

Yo-Yo Ma’s “Quarter Chicken Dark” is funky and bold. Its beautiful violin banters and airy moments welcome thoughtful considerations.

Etta James’ “A Sunday Kind Of Love” makes me want to put on a stylish dress, a pair of heels, go to a throwback classic soul dance party and slow dance with my man. It’s full of sass and soulful demands and beckons for love.

Bobby Womack’s “That’s The Way I Feel About ‘Cha” is bluesy and guttural. Full of belly wrenching emotion and truth. It encourages me to feel.

India. Arie’s “Life I Know” is storytelling in pure form. It’s beautifully raw and authentically simplistic.

Feeling God in Grief

God uses different things to help us in life. People sometimes. Places next time. Things this time. Music is my thing right now. And it’s helping me express my grief as I ache for people and experiences that have left my life.

Grief is hard work. It depletes you. It can be brutal. And sometimes people around you don’t know how to respond or help as they see you in the “valley of the shadows.”

When pain enters my life I often ask, “Where is God in all of this?” and “Why did he let this happen?” Do I say he’s a mean God because for whatever reason he permits though does not inflict upon us suffering and violence along with brokenness and traumas that seem to make our hearts break, our souls ache and cause our minds to shatter?

Or do I say he’s a gracious Father and a loving Creator who in the midst of all this hell breaking loose also permits and gladly offers us the celebrations, the gift to live and the choice to love, to hold close those we embrace and let go those we’ve lost but will never forget?

Deep Calls to Deep

Suffering is a part of living. God gives the gift of grieving to help our hearts acknowledge, “Yes, I have loved this person, this is how I loved them and even now I still do love them though they have passed.”

God’s grace towards me is tender as I mourn. The first few months after my grandmother died and the car accident I couldn’t read the Bible even though I tried. I had no mental fortitude to sit, focus my thoughts, read and internalize the words.

God met me where I was. He spoke truth to my heart. He gave me music to help me express my emotions. The God of the universe stepped into my grief – sobs, anger, depression, questions – and stays in it with me as he walks me toward healing. I’ve healed a great deal in three years and my faith in God changed. It’s deeper. It’s more human. Way more personal. I’m alive, I’m here, melodies and all.

Originally written September 24, 2014.

Finding Me Truth #3: The Beauty of Loss

The beauty of loss is that you don’t go back to who you are but you do become a whole new you.

Loss changed me, it made me much more different than the woman I used to be.

I have an keener ear to the pulse and language of the world now than I did before.

Loss has made me more relaxed in some areas of life, more comfortable with myself; in others I’m still a hot mess and as my girl Bri would say “the struggle is real.”

I know what a deep wound to the soul is. I also know what healing feels like from the heart of God hand fashioned for me.

I understand what joy beyond my sorrow can look like. I’ve lived this and I’m still in it.

My Shepherd Said Goodbye (Pt. 1)

Eight years is a long time to be somewhere. Those years represent your life, your time and the changes you’ve been through. Eight are the years I spent in a community of people who came from different cultures, life experiences and even heartaches. People who merged together weekly to learn more about God and share our journeys of faith. People who helped me grow and discover the young woman I was becoming.

This community is my church home in Orlando. I landed on the doorsteps of Discovery Church in February 2005 after moving to central Florida for a new position with my job. I grew up in a black southern Baptist experience and my connection to church goes back to my childhood beginnings: memories of Sunday School lessons with the late Mrs. Maxine Tucker, singing in the children’s choir at First Baptist off Gresham Road, being dressed to the nines for Easter Sunday and feeling the humidity of those hot Georgia summers during Vacation Bible School. I know a little something about the church. 

Being connected to a community of people who desire relationship with God has always been a part of how I experience the world. Moving to Orlando meant that along with all the other new things I needed to do – find a doctor, change my car tag, get a new license – I wanted to find a church to call home and start new relationships.

I didn’t want to church shop. I wanted to go to a place that felt welcoming and God’s truth was being shared and would know “this is where I should be.” On my first visit to Discovery, I knew “this is where I should be.” The sermon messages constantly spoke right to my soul and truth was being preached. I was all of 26 years old and started building relationships and developing community in a church that wasn’t quite mega in its size but wasn’t mini either.

I joined a diverse group of 25 college and post-college folks who were in our early to mid-20s. The church offered several groups like this one, designed around similar seasons of life and interests of people to help them grow spiritually. Our group learned about community as we unpacked the truths of the Bible and understood more of God’s plans for our lives. My group leaders were Peter and Lynn and we all had one heck of a time together.

Desiring to learn more about nutrition and good body weight management, I also connected with a small group of women, led by the incredible encourager Deb and built more relationships in my church. Fall of 2005 brought with it the unexpected death of my father James that devastated me to my core.

Pastor Berry, our church’s care pastor, joined me in my loss, providing resources to help me put words to this shocking grief and understanding how to mourn. Several months later I became a part of the church’s first-ever Grief Share group, which met over 10 weeks and walked through messages that helped us process and heal from the deaths of those we deeply loved.

Months would merge into years at Discovery that included more connections in deep ways through more small groups and Bible studies I joined:  a “9 to 5” group for professional young women navigating the twists and turns of life as we pursued God and a creative group for photographers, writers and filmmakers who set out to document stories of hope, justice and faith locally in Orlando.

I regularly attended Status, our 20-something weekly gathering for young people at Discovery. Status was full of real good music, real good people and real good messages that challenged me to grow and commit more of myself to the faith I believed in. Status was also a place where I worked through a cute crush on a cute guy. The experience helped me learn more about myself, relationships and the value of being in community with others.

More years zoomed by and I committed more of myself to Discovery, a gathering of people in a simple building who illustrated the family of God to me and his heart for his church. It’s not just a church, it’s my church and it’s part of my identity and it’s place that’s safe and invites me to learn and serve. I began serving with the hospitality team, offering my warm smiles and soft hellos as a church greeter for a couple of years. I then followed a passion to encourage others and joined the prayer team for a season. I provided a listening ear to those who needed someone to talk to after our Sunday services and pray for them.

My heart soon led me to invest in Discovery’s children’s ministry and I became a teacher for the orange and green room aka the 5 and 6 year-olds. What an adventure those years were! Kids are just hilarious. Investing in their lives and seeing them respond constantly to God’s love with their beautiful faith overwhelmed me. They reminded me that goodness still thrives in this very fallen and broken world.

While serving the kids I also connected with a new group of women at the church and started attending a new small group for 20 and 30-something women. We were a little group at first and over time more women have come into our gathering and it’s been exhilarating and full of many hot mess moments, i.e. intentionally holding backwards socials where we wear clothes backwards and eat dessert before dinner, enjoying our version of “The Hunger Games” and karaoke adventures that will go down in history.

I became a co-leader of the group and have deeply enjoyed building into the lives of other women. We do life together, share our challenges and put our hope in Jesus for better days to come.

Eight years in this community known as Discovery Church was rich and meaningful.

Eight years of growing, losing and living through the cups of pain and cups of joy that comes with being alive.

Eight years of feeling that you belong to something and you’re part of something bigger than yourself.

And then one day, everything changed.

In May 2013, on a typical Sunday like so many others, I sat in the auditorium ready for Pastor David’s message. After the welcome and music, two members of our church’s leadership team entered the stage and began to share words I never anticipated hearing.

They said something had taken place involving our pastor and he would not be at church today. At first I thought he had been hurt in an accident and was injured. But then they shared that he had given his immediate resignation that week following the disclosure of an immoral relationship outside of his marriage.

It didn’t feel real hearing those words. I felt stunned. Speechless. I was in shock. Many seated around me echoed my feelings, as people began to cry and weep and express the tremendous loss that the news brought. It felt like someone had died.

Many tears. Incredible disappointment. Great pain. Discovery is a family. And on the heels of this news, we were hurting very much and very deeply.

Our pastor, our shepherd had left us. He’d said goodbye and we didn’t know what all of this would mean for us and the future of our church.

This post is part one of three where I will share more of my experiences through this loss and what I’ve learned about God, his church and his people.

I’m curious: have you experienced the pain of seeing a leader in your life, like a pastor, mentor or someone you look up to, fall from their position of influence? How did that experience make you feel?

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