When You're Gone (Shawn Mendes)
The song doesn't matter. It's a good song. A catchy pop song. I don't know if it's a love song. It's a when-something-good-is-about-to-end song, maybe. A good radio song. It's actually quite hard to craft a simple song like this. It's much harder to leave it simple than to embellish it and adulterate the heart of a song with too much music. A lot of people don't realize that a somewhat narrow band of music is appropriate for radio because of the frequencies used to broadcast. Some sounds don't come over the airwaves very well. When I listen to songs for, say, a post like this, I use my Bose headphones because the sound is better than the iMac speakers. But, I also know I'm listening to a digital reproduction of a performance. If you listen to something such a CD, which almost no one does anymore, you have to realize it's compressed. It's a digital copy of a live event. So it's ones and zeroes. All the quirky, spacey sounds are lopped off. All the edges are rounded off. It's smoother, but it's also more boring. Less human. Slicker. MP3s and whatever is used now are even more basic, unfortunately. If you want to listen to music the way it's intended to be heard, go to a show. Listen with your whole body. Otherwise, get a high-fidelity sound system and some vinyl.
Wow, that was a bit of a tangent. I don't know where that came from. Did Shawn Mendes inspire me? Perhaps. He certainly inspires a lot of people. He's a fit, handsome, young man (Things I no longer am, if I ever was). The purpose of this post is in the post-script section. I didn't choose this song. It chose me. But this post isn't about this song. It's just one of many like it. It makes me think about what relationships I've had and how often this sentiment repeated itself over my 45 years.
I laid in bed today before taking a nap and cried to my God. I had so many things to say but ended up saying simple, childlike things. And I felt love I haven't felt for a long time simply envelop me. I felt safe. Heard. Understood. Encapsulated in grace and mercy and everything else beautiful. I was held, though I was alone in bed. The substance of our talk I will leave out of this discussion. We don't realize how beautiful and precious we are to God.
My past is pain. I was unwanted and was born into an abusive household. In spite of that, or perhaps because of that, God took hold of my heart. Music is beautiful, so don't get me wrong. Listening to music is about the most fun thing you can do by yourself. Hopefully, if you're with someone else and in love, you will do something that lasts longer than this song's three minutes. But, hey, I'm a realist. I get it. The intensity lasts for a few moments, but the sentiment remains long after the ... song is over. Here's to all those who are making music with the ones they love. I see you. Our lives are short, so love with all you have. Make it epic. Make it last. And, for heaven's sake, go with God as your guide. Amen.
I'm concerned about this space. I once poured my heart out here, but now it's abandoned. I feel sorry for it because it was once a big part of my life. (I may return to writing about a few themes I enjoy.) Things come and go. Flowers bloom and fade. Seasons change. Nothing stays the same, not even us. I wrote a lot of things. Some of them passed on from my life. They were true once but aren't true now. The most common themes — the ones I wrote about continuously — persist.
I realized recently there were two main things I struggled with in the past. One was failing at relationships. Rejection is a common theme. But rejection is out of one's control. Most of those failures were not mine. I take responsibility for my actions. What others did is on them. And I don't blame them. It was simply the way things were. Sometimes people don't see us. And sometimes they do but don't care. It's not what they're looking for. It's okay. We can't make choices for others. I learned to respect what others want. Or don't want. Even if it's me. It doesn't speak as much to what kind of person I am as much as other things. It's just a choice I've learned to respect.
The other continuous theme was being alone. The flip side of the coin. How I managed those two struggles was what defined me.
Many years ago, before I was divorced, I thought I would be a passport bro (a dumb name). That didn't happen, of course. The reason for that is embedded in this blog. As with many of my solutions to those two struggles, I was not successful in going that direction.
And that brings me to the point of this diatribe. I've been searching for solutions to multiple situations. Solutions evaded me. Finally, I had to give them to God — failures and all — and unburden myself. I don't know what He will do. Maybe nothing. Maybe a miracle. All I know is my solutions failed. I gave up and gave it all to God. And I'm at peace. I'm 45 years old and just realized I can give my inabilities, my messes, my mistakes, and everything else to God. What a perfect, peaceful thing to do. I love Him so.
Thank you for reading. And God bless.
Christian blog: a-better-hope.blogspot.com
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