My Favorite Church Songs

My favorite church songs are not in church.

They’re just not. Maybe one day. But right now, my favorite church songs are on YouTube and my iPod. Here are two of them:


Magnificent by U2

This is probably my favorite song from “No Line on the Horizon.” Bono has said the lyrics were inspired by Cole Porter and Bach. To me, it reads a lot like one of David’s Psalms. The song is about "two lovers holding on to each other and trying to turn their life into worship," according to Bono. Right now, no song connects me with God like this one:

Magnificent
Oh, magnificent

I was born
I was born to be with you 

In this space and time
After that and ever after
I haven't had a clue

Only to break rhyme
This foolishness can leave a heart
Black and blue



Only love
Only love can leave such a mark

But only love
Only love can heal such a scar


I was born
I was born to sing for you 

I didn’t have a choice
But to lift you up
And sing whatever song you wanted me to
I give you back my voice
From the womb my first cry
It was a joyful noise
Oh, oh

Only love
Only love can leave such a mark
But only love
Only love can heal such a scar


Justified till we die
You and I will magnify

Oh, the magnificent

Magnificent

Only love
Only love can leave such a mark

But only love
Only love unites our hearts



Justified till we die
You and I will magnify
Oh, the magnificent

Magnificent

Magnificent


I love the video, too:




I’ve recently discovered Blind Willie Johnson. Johnson was a Texas-born blues and spirituals singer and guitarist. His life is a mystery: conflicting stories abound concerning his birthplace, how he became blind, how many wives he had or even if he was legally married to any of them. He was poor his entire life. He seemed to go back and forth between women, which were clearly his weakness, and wanting to serve God through preaching. He spent his later years in my hometown of Beaumont, where he preached on the streets to anyone who would listen. After his house burned down in 1945, he lived in the wet ruins of his home until he contracted malaria and died.



Between 1927 and 1930, Johnson made 30 record sides for Columbia Records. One of these is “Dark is the Night, Cold is the Ground.” Johnson was a master of the slide guitar (today’s slide guitarists are still trying to figure out how he played the way he did), which he features on this song, but his voice is actually the heart of the song. There are no discernable words, just Johnson’s voice. Combine what we know of Johnson’s life with the raw emotion in this song and you know this is music straight from a broken man’s soul. It’s Romans 8:26 put to music. I found a video someone made for this song on YouTube:

What I learned about myself in 2010

1) I’ve reached the age where jumping rope makes me wet my pants.

2) Graduate school isn’t so scary after all.

3) I like sushi.

4) A long-distance friend of mine recently told me that not only can you pray for God to bring people into your life, you can pray for him to remove people from your life. (In a healthy way, not an Ananias-and-Sapphira way.) I’ve been intrigued by this concept lately.

5) When you have a migraine, that whistle sound on the Febreze commercials can make you want to commit violent acts.

6) Even when both your kids are in school all day, there still isn’t enough time in the day.

7) When my dad was diagnosed with cancer a while back, my best friend from preschool, whose husband has survived two types of cancer, called me out of the blue to offer some much-appreciated words of wisdom. And my best friend from elementary school, who lost her own dad to cancer several years ago, sent me a very sweet and thoughtful message. One friend lives in Connecticut, the other in Boston. Friendships are not limited by time or space.

8) My dog has no concept of personal space.

9) I am so over the little Christmas village Chad and I began collecting pieces for years ago and I want to get rid of it.

10) I am a much better student in my late 30s than I was in my late teens/early 20s. Back then, I was just trying to survive. Now I'm trying to succeed. Makes a big difference.

11) The stay-at-home mom of a preschooler stage of my life is over. I did it for ten years. It was great and I have wonderful memories of it. But I'm not pining for more babies. That ship has sailed, hit an iceberg and sunk to the bottom of the ocean.