Recentering on Hope

It’s time once again for a new blog post on Pastor’s Playlist. Thanks for sticking with me through last week’s hiatus. It’s been a bit chaotic in my household as we have been trying to sell our home for the past year. And all the work we have been putting off has finally caught up with us. While I’m not sure that life in general will ever really calm down for us, it will be a nice reprieve to finally close an important chapter of home ownership. Well… on to the post that you have all been patiently waiting for!

As a Texas boy, I grew up around country music. My first real crush was on a red-headed country music star, 35 years my senior - Ms. Reba McEntire. She was charismatic and her stage presence was something that drew me in at 3 years old - not to mention her distinct country western twang and lyrics about love and heartbreak which seemed to transcend my ability to personally relate. I could sing along to every song, be it “Fancy,” the tale of a young New Orleans sex worker doing what she needed to do to survive in a cutthroat world or “Whoever’s In New England,” a song about a woman’s suspicion about her husband’s love affair with another woman. Oh, I knew each word by heart before first grade. And while country music today is not the first station I will try to find on the radio station, I still have a special place in my heart for the likes of Reba, Dolly, Willie, Johnny, Patsy, and Tammy. 

Texas country was born out of the influences of American folk music, cajun and creole, and Appalachian bluegrass music. The sounds of the banjo, fiddle, and harmonica are distinct and toe-tapping instrumentals would have been passed down generations from immigrant ancestors. And just like many forms of artistic expression, when brought to a new geographic region, they tend to take on new and experimental forms. Today, as I’m writing this post, I’m no longer deep in the heart of Texas, but nestled in the Ohio River Valley, where the south, the midwest, and old Appalachia come together. 

There is something nostalgic about music that feels like it’s from a simpler time. Music that reminds you of family gatherings at grandma and grandpa’s house, back when people talked to one another and weren’t glued to a piece of tech that seems to govern every moment of our waking lives. Back when boredom caused us to be more creative and adventurous rather than people obsessed with the quick dopamine kick we get from scrolling. The modern world and its technological conveniences make life more streamlined in a lot of ways - you can order food for delivery, purchase airline tickets, watch a new tv show, and get the latest news in a matter of minutes without getting into your car, making a call, or even getting out of bed. That’s wild to me. But in some ways, it’s paradoxical, too. We are connected, 24/7/365, to any information or content we could ever want and at the same time so disconnected from one another. Comments and likes have replaced actual meaningful conversation. Young people are reporting feelings of loneliness in record numbers. We want to practice things like mindfulness and “being in the moment,” but we can’t, for one reason or another, disconnect from that handheld device that gives us (what seems like) instant gratification in the moment.

But surely it’s a good thing that humans do have access to information at their fingertips, right? Here’s the thing - humans, biologically speaking - were never meant to consume as much information as we do on a daily basis. Think back, thousands of years ago, to the earliest forms of civilizations. Hunter-gatherers spent their days searching for food that they could take back to their homes and their families. Their biggest risks were predators, starvation, and lack of medical care. For them, the anxiety for the need for survival was fundamental. But today, we have no saber-toothed tigers waiting to devour us. We have grocery stores, restaurants, and even food pantries capable of keeping most of society fed. We have advanced medicine and medical care, vaccines, and even pain management. But the problem is that we still have the survival based anxiety from the cave-person days. Pair that with the constant stream of bad news on our phones and we tend to feel threatened all the time with no way to combat it. It isn’t healthy. 

And I’ll be honest, it’s easy to fall into the whole doomscrolling habit. Back in 2020, I think we started to realize just how dependent we were on technology to help us through a pandemic - a threat to life and health that had not been seen for decades. That year, comedian and musician Bo Burnham released a Netflix special called “Inside”- a dark comedic look at his life “locked inside” for about a year. You watch a guy struggling with severe isolation, anxiety, and depression try to create comedic content for viewers who would also be feeling “locked up”. He sings about the false sense of peace you get from scrolling through a “white-woman’s Instagram”, his feelings about the climate crisis, and the internet as a double-edged sword of content and despair. It’s dark and the theming is very adult, but honestly it’s a brilliantly done piece.

But this brings me to the question of how we live in a world where we feel like we are constantly drinking from the firehose of anxiety and despair. And for that, I can look no further than to the iconic Dolly Parton and her 1977 hit, Light of a Clear Blue Morning - a joyful and catchy song that just makes you want to dance, in spite of all the bad stuff. Dolly wrote this song out of her struggle and split with her longtime music and business partner, Porter Wagoner. The split was professional but incredibly painful for them both, even resulting in legal battles. For Dolly, this song was a song of relief as the clouds lifted and she was able to find herself again.

The lyrics are simple but nonetheless impactful. Life has been hard, the dark clouds have hidden the sunshine for some time. But everything is going to work out, just fine. In some ways it almost sounds “Pollyanna-ish”. Unrestrained optimism - you just have to have faith and persistence. But it’s so much more than that, I think. The song describes a struggle - not at the beginning but one that has gone on for some time. Dolly has been through it. She’s seen the good, the bad, and the ugly. And the fact that she is still here is something she sees worthy of celebration. It’s the moment at the end of the dark tunnel when you catch a glimpse of the light outside. There’s still a ways to go - perhaps even a long way - but there is still something joyful in sight and that much closer. 

I had a pastor tell me once, in the middle of a pretty disappointing point in my life, that everything will be ok. We don’t yet know what “ok” looks like, but it will be. And honestly, that has stuck with me pretty strongly. I never want to downplay the struggle of anyone who is going through a struggle, but as a person of faith, there is a truth in that statement. The biggest hope we share with other Christians around the world is the hope that suffering will one day be no more. We go through seasons of joy and struggle in this life, but there is something even greater that is coming. And we catch glimpses of it in the here and now. Never fully, but we do experience it. For me, I see it most in the places that feel familiar, safe, and peaceful. I experience it when I eat a meal that reminds me of what life was like in my childhood home. Or when I talk with family members or friends. Or perhaps when I just put aside the obligations of life for a few moments, if only to enjoy the sunshine. Or in the words of a familiar and meaningful story. I hope wherever you are and whatever is going on in your life right now, that you are able to find comfort and joy in the familiar places. And be reminded that whatever you may be going through right now is here for a season - there is joy yet to come.

Song: Light of a Clear Blue Morning by Dolly Parton

Where to Listen:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3BaVb8LTooU

Peace!

-PT