by Janna Barber
Last week, a therapist friend of mine was giving a talk at the Tuesday Chapel for our Young Adults Ministry and she told everyone she has a lot of sayings that may sound a bit cheesy, but she still likes to use them because they’re memorable. The title of her talk was “When Life Disappoints” and during the Q&A time at the end, she said a phrase that’s not only stuck with me, it’s been ringing in my head for days. She’d already explained how we tend to do all manner of things with our grief when life gets hard: like minimize it, ignore it, numb it, and invalidate it. But the thing we don’t usually do, she said, is tend to it, and take care of it. “In other words,” she finally emphasized, “suffering needs to be soothed.”
I think it was the word soothed that caught my attention because it reminded me of caring for an infant. As a mother of three, a former preschool teacher, and a frequent nursery worker, I’m very familiar with soothing small humans. For instance, I know that some of them like to be cuddled and patted, while others prefer bouncing and singing, and some of them actually just want to be left alone so they can sleep. Larger humans, however, can be trickier when it comes to this idea of soothing, which is why I’m thankful that God has fashioned so many people into artists, writers, therapists, and other kinds of caregivers. These gifts to humanity reflect God’s divine love by teaching us that feelings are nothing to be afraid of, and such is the case with my friend, singer-songwriter Emily McCoy.
I first met Emily when her oldest daughter was three. Lily was one of my students in the Parent’s Day Out program at Fellowship Church in Knoxville. Lily was not your typical preschool girl and she provided many moments of laughter for me and my co-teacher with her silly antics and creative choices during the day. That year, Emily’s husband was dealing with some health issues and we had several talks about how he was doing and the latest updates on his treatment. I knew Emily worked as a worship leader at this church and I tried to encourage her as she attempted to juggle so many roles during that time of life. Years later, we reconnected at a concert at another church, where Emily performed some of her own original music, and I’ve been a fan ever since.
I’d heard Emily sing a time or two when attending service with a friend, and at a women’s event held at Fellowship, so I’d already experienced the power of her voice and the beauty of her skillful piano playing. But hearing Emily tell the stories behind some of her songs endeared me to her talents even more, so I bought a CD and went home and followed her on all the socials later that night.
The fourth track of Emily’s new album, Longing for the Garden, is entitled “Hide in Thee,” and it ends with two simple questions:
How can beauty come from pain?
Will tomorrow be the same?
The final word lasts as long as the note being sung along with it, and then the song is over. There’s no musical resolution, no answer to these final questions. They simply stand alone as the listener contemplates what it means to “hide in thee.” This song paints a rich picture of what it looks like to befriend your grief, to sit in stillness and silence and share your pain with Christ. This is the example we’re given over and over in the Bible, for how to soothe life’s many hurts, in books like Job, Psalms, Lamentations, Jeremiah, and even several letters from the New Testament.
“Cast all your anxiety on him for he cares for you” Peter instructs the early church, and Emily does just that in songs like “Even in Your Silence” which begins with the honest lines:
God this grief is overwhelming
It’s gotten hard to trust your plan
Though we tend to prefer solutions to our pain and hurt, Emily’s music encourages what we really need, which is to be held and comforted during times of grief. In songs like “Nothing Ill-Fitting,” she takes on the voice of the Lord, who responds to our fear and sadness with words of peace and calm.
Weary beloved, listen to me
You've tried to hold on and get by
But you're tired, struggling to breathe
Time now to loosen your grip on these things
Control is a farce and you've got to let go now
And take hold of me
I am gentle, I am humble, I am kind
Come to me now, trade your burden now for mine
I was carrying some pretty heavy burdens earlier this year when Emily gave a popup concert to celebrate the recording of this album with her band here in Knoxville and what I appreciated most about that show, besides the blessing of live music, was the evidence I saw of the collaborative process between Emily and her bandmates. These local players, already known in town as songwriters and performers in their own right, lend their unique skills to this project, creating a jazzy chamber feel to the piano-driven melodies. The effect was the healing balm I needed that night as the music gave me time and space for all my feelings–an experience that’s often neglected in modern worship services.
A few weeks ago, Emily shared a post on Instagram to promote this new album, saying “I don’t create great ‘content,’ but I have a story to tell.” As I looked at the artwork and thought about the themes present in her songs, I realized the story Emily tells is one filled with hope. For after God meets us in our grief, we can’t help but feel hopeful in response, as Emily sings in “Gentle Gardener”
You are catching all the foxes in the vineyard
As you clear new pathways through the burned-out wood
Where the trees that fell in all the desolation
Display new growth I never dreamed they could
It’s been said that we live our lives between two gardens, longing for the beauty that was lost in Eden as well as the full redemption that awaits us in the new heaven and earth. But in the meantime, I’m thankful for an album like this one to soothe us as we sojourn.
Janna Barber is a blogger, poet, and memoirist. Her most recent book is Hidden in Shadow: Tales of Grief, Lamentation, and Faith. This memoir is one woman’s honest reckoning with the truth that even as our faith waxes and wanes, God is constant, and he loves his children even when they don’t know what he’s up to.