Love at first. . . listen

I believe in love at first sight. . .

except, for me, it has more to do with songs than people. So I guess that is love at first listen.

This weekend, I got the Jill Phillips and Andy Gullahorn Christmas album I had recently ordered in the mail. I popped it in to my car’s CD player and broke my first rule of listening to a new CD. Instead of listening to the entire album all the way through in the correct order, I located the song “I will make a way” and proceeded to listen to it 3 times in a row. And I cried as I drove to JAM sound check at church.

The song is cowritten by Andy Gullahorn and Jason Gray and is based on a Walt Wangerin short story about an abused and forgotten woman who has closed herself off from the world and is mired in the world her mistakes and the sins perpetrated against her have created. So how can she find hope?, the song’s narrator asks. Before long, we find out the narrator is God Himself and the song is a more modern-day version of the Christmas story. He will create hope in her life because He will let her bear the child whose very name is hope. And when she hangs her head in shame, she will look down and see what God is doing in her life, the hope He is creating within her growing belly.

I first heard this song in August and haven’t been able to get it out of my mind since. Let me set the scene for you. It was during Hutchmoot and it had been a long Saturday full of breakout sessions, panel discussions, and new friendships. The night ended with a keynote speaker, and honestly I was tired by that time, I could barely bear the thought of listening to any more people talk. But then Walt Wangerin walked in, and at that first glimpse I knew I had to listen.

I don’t know if I can explain what happened that night. There we sat in a tiny church sanctuary as night fell on Nashville, surrounded by the stations of the cross and stained glass and friends new and old, and listened to the quiet voice of a man who is obviously dying. Walt Wangerin has cancer and the diagnosis seemed to give his words importance. We leaned forward in our seats, longing to hear what he had to say and somewhere in the midst of all of that, something holy happened.

There are moments in my life when I know I’ve entered into the holiness of God. There’s a moment in communion at my home church that I can’t date or remember all of, except I remember where I was sitting, the way the light shown in the stained glass and reflected on me and the tiny cup of juice and prayerful focus and overwhelming thankfulness. I remember a moment driving to my parents when I was driving through the fields of harvest of my childhood, utterly thankful and singing praise to God. I remember a moment in my current church in the middle of a Sunday service when I knew God was present.

And I remember the words of that quiet man on a Saturday night in a Episcopalian church. A sense of holy peace descended on the building and everyone there was captured by it. Wald spoke the words of Truth and life to us and we listened. He reminded us that we weren’t just given a love for the written word and writing so that we could wax eloquent on pretty turns of phrases and grammar. We were given these talents to make speak beauty and capital T truth into the world. That we have the opportunity to write the words that help others know that Jesus loves you isn’t just a nice saying, but a truth that is true in the deepest moments of our sorrow and the highest points of our joy.

After that keynote address, the Square Peg Alliance put on a concert and Andy Gullahorn sang this song. You could almost hear the sighs as he sang, half-held back sobs as he weaved a spell as Walt had done. I loved the song before he even finished singing.

There is truth and beauty in the world and it is there because there is an Author of such things.

And when we happen upon the songs, stories, and art that tell that Truth, we should pay attention.