There are some songs that transport us instantly back to a certain time and place. Music is a time machine of sorts. The first notes play and I remember exactly how I felt, sad or happy, heartbroken or elated. I feel the same emotions as if it was happening in the present. There is a reason that breakup songs hit the mark. Anthems make our hearts beat faster. Ballads increase our longing, and love songs give us butterflies all over again. There is power in music, emotional power. It’s why some songs are immediate hits and others, seemingly just as well written, don’t connect.

Some call it nostalgia, but I think it’s more than that. I think we are created as musical beings because God is a musical being. Notice I didn’t say we are created musicians. You don’t have to be a musician to participate in music. You don’t even have to be able to carry a tune, because music is in the heart, not the mouth or the hands.

I heard an old song this week that took me back. No surprise it is a worship song. For me, worship songs go straight to the heart and connect me to God in ways nothing else can. They are intimate, as if he and I are sitting together with no outside interference. The secret place. He invites me to come sit with him in the dark nights of the soul, when I have no prayers or words. Or when I am in the wilderness and cannot feel his presence at all. Or any number of other times he wishes to sit with me. Sometimes I don’t hear him calling me. Sometimes I hear and ignore his invitation.

This particular song, Breathe, was written in the 90s and sung in every church a million times over. It connected. Spirit to spirit. Heart to heart. It’s simplicity is what made it memorable, but the heart behind it is what made it transformational. It was a prayer. (You may not realize that worship songs are prayers and singing them over and over is the equivalent of begging God. But that’s another blog for another day. 🙂 ) The chords are not complicated but even the lyrics of this song are simple.

Verse 1:

This is the air I breathe, this is the air I breathe,

Your holy presence living in me.

Verse 2:

This is my daily bread, this is my daily bread

Your very word spoken to me.

Chorus:

 And I, I’m desperate for you.

And I, I’m lost without you.

Got it memorized? Yes, it is that simple, but I think that is what made it so worshipful. I didn’t need to think about what words came next, or if I was on the correct verse. I could just close my eyes and be sitting with God, singing to him personally. An audience of one.

But here’s the kicker… and why this song means so much to me that it can stop me in my tracks. I was in a hard place. The middle of raising four little ones. Constant activity. Never able to pause and just be with God. Young mothers out there…I feel you. I see you. I was desperate for time with God. Not the checklist kind of time, but the restorative, peace-filled, calming kind of time. My chaotic life (that I loved!) was overwhelming me. I NEEDED to breathe. I LONGED to breathe. I wanted to feel his holy presence in me. It was the only way I was going to survive and I knew it! But I felt I was failing miserably. This song was a cry from my heart.

I was feeling so overwhelmed, I couldn’t just relax and worship, even at church. So, one evening I stayed home. Defeated. I gave up trying to find the time with him I so desperately needed. And do you know what happened? He showed up. At my house. In my living room. I put the kids down and when I sat down on the couch, exhausted and drifting off, the Holy Spirit entered the room. (I’m not quite sure why he always comes when I am sleeping…maybe because that is the only time, I am still? Ha!)

I literally felt the presence of God beside me. So much so that I looked to see if there was an indention on the cushion. Then that simple song rose up inside of me and I sang. No instruments or worship leader, no people around me with their hands lifted, just me singing the longing of my heart into the air. I changed the words, “you are the air I breathe, you are my daily bread.” Singing directly to him. Then he spoke to me. “Let me sing this song to you.”  Right there in my living room, just me and God. Sing over me? Not this song. Not these words. So, as usual, I wrestled with him:

“Those words…my holy presence living in you? Ha! I am not holy.”

“You are because you are in me, created by me.”

“I am your daily bread, my words spoken to you? No.”

“I love to talk to you daily. Wherever you are. In the car. Playing with kids. Prayer is not words at a meeting or before bed or at sunrise…it is breathing. Every. Single. Breath. Is a prayer.”

“You are desperate for me, lost without me? Yeah, right. The God of the universe is lost without me.”

I am desperate for relationship with you. I long for it. I am not lost in the way you are thinking but I am at a loss when you ignore my invitation. Lost for how to reach you, to comfort you, to give you the peace you long for.”

And with that conversation, I was undone. Sobbing. I was seen as I had never been seen before. My hurting heart was laid bare. This deep communion is the real deal. And so, when I heard this song this week, I was right back in that living room. Singing and being sung to. Directly. What a blessing music is to pick me up and take me back to just what I need in this moment. Here’s the link if you want to time travel today.