Unforgettable. Thanks to technology, Nat King Cole and daughter Natalie croon in duet—after his death. Across time and uncrossable space, two singular voices harmonize.
Might there be a hidden message for us?
Can I be honest? Out of shape and out of sorts, I’m edgy tonight. Worn down by the day’s relentless details. Dreading tomorrow. I’d sing, but I’m too busy whistling in the dark.
It’s heartening to remember God listens and cares about bad days. The grousing weariness, the sorrow, the please-please-don’t-mess-with-me-now thoughts that race through our heads.
The up side? Could be we’re voicing accidental psalms. Which implies we’re heading toward hope, as most psalms do.
Naturally, Hamster Brain amps up its running commentary: “You better not . . . You really should . . . IF ONLY . . .”
Then this: The memory that an unforgettable God sings over us (Zephaniah 3:16-17).
The LORD your God is in the midst of you . . . Let not your hands sink down or be slow and listless . . . [God] will rejoice over you with joy . . . [and] exult over you with singing (Amplified Bible).
Seems God finds us “unforgettable, too.”
Eons before my father cheered me up on car trips with weird duets (his rhythmic oompahs to my “Daisy, daisy”), music underscored burgeoning life. The Bible describes a conflicted guy named Job who was divinely reminded, among other things, of a time when the morning stars sang together (Job 38:7).
Whether you take this verse literally or metaphorically, from the beginning sound underscored our unfolding universe. Perhaps to this day the heavenly bodies chime in with their descant over God’s thrumming bass line: “It’s still good.”
I believe the heavens witness our groans and questions. Our doubts and cries. Far-reaching as light still en route from ten million stars, long-retired, God’s extravagant gesture of love extends itself to us. Voiced, or not, it lasers through darkness. Sings over us.
Hints of that resonance beckon us through creation, each other, and those we love. The more we listen, the more we find our part in the continuing duet. And lose it. And find it again. We re-enter it over and over, feeling our way forward, sometimes whistling in the dark. But never alone.
Listen: Somewhere, the Lord of the Starfields is singing.
MAKING IT PERSONAL:
What’s stealing your song this week?
Consider spending time this week listening to quiet music you love. Or meander under the wide night sky. What do you hear? What do you wish you could un-hear?
Afterward, consider writing about your experience. Try a list. Or pen a letter to God, or yourself, or another person. Maybe you sense a duet with two distinct voices. Use two colors of ink to record the conversation.
Or create a poem. A deliberate psalm. TIP: The moments we capture with language stay with us longer.