Into the OK

Into the OK
12/16/2004

At some point in life we all come to the conclusion that not everything is ok. I’m there – or rather living in the “THERE”. The songs I sing, the music I buy, the books I read are all full of ones like me who have decided (or rather have had the decision made for them) to stop pretending that the sun rising is always a pretty and welcomed thing. That every day is wonderful, that nothing bad will happen as long as I smile, and that the boggy man does not exist.

I have found myself flipping off happy times radio. I roll my eyes uncontrollably at people who answer the rhetorical question “how are you” with a perky “I’m blessed”. I hate that! And I thank God that He does not answer me with such triteness.

One thing I’ve come to realize is that for the most part the ‘blessed’ ones and the ones who are humming ‘lovely day’ are the last people I will ever go to with my problems. The Churches with bumper sticker messages on their marquees are the last ones I will enter to learn about Jesus.

Maybe I’m just a bitter bitch – or maybe I’ve seen something that these others have not seen. Maybe I have truly seen the boggy men and women so many attempt to ignore. Sadly, I can name some of the monsters. Some I know personally, others I look like, still another I live with. Maybe it’s true that we turn into what we most fear. What I hope is that the thing I fear will not have control over me. That with God I can be used to let others know it’s OK to not be OK all the time. I want to shout in truth that God is stronger, bigger and gentler than any of the monsters that whisper to us.

Many times I spend wondering if God really hears even while knowing He hears. If not for His fight, I know I would not be alive today. Yes, even as I cry out to KNOW -- I know that He hears me.

What is it about other sad people that draw me? Is it a common community soaked in tears that only tears allow admittance into? As amazing and vulgar as they can be, I cry with TOOL. I nod my head in understanding with The Violet Burning, Staind, and The Choir. I clap my hands to the profound uncovering of Brennan Manning, Gene Eugene, Diswalla, Over the Rhine…

When I’m in a mood, it’s not the writers of books I go to but rather the writers of song. There is something wonderful, longing and capturing about a melody wrapped around guitars and drums. Something soothing in hearing someone say in a catchy melody “It’s OK to not be OK…you are not alone.” What power to be given the ability to say that and know others understand.

I never thought of singing or writing as a gift until this very moment. We writers of word and song have such a great medium placed before us. Could it truly be a voice of God? At this moment, I am aware of how careful I must be to tell the truth as best I know it.

I have said before that any talents in the arts are not for the one to whom it has been given but for those who are to hear, see, and read. I really do believe that…but I will add that it is also for the writer, singer, player…for God has used the words written by my own hand to speak to me on occasion. There have been times I have been in prayer and couldn’t think of anything to say, and a lyric I’ve written will come to mind. There are other times I have been so torn up in heart and spirit and the words of a song penned by me will eclipse the moment (sometimes I think this is cool, other times, annoying as heck).

And so I write. I listen to and applaud other writers. And I remember that it’s OK to not be OK all the time. And for the OK and not so OK times, the Blood of the Healer covers and has chosen me to speak the scary words of truth as far as I know.

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