This past year, the pandemic’s multiple disasters have impacted all of us. Maybe the tempest whirling around you has involved the death of a beloved friend or relative. Or perhaps you’ve lost a job and even with the stimulus, unemployment doesn’t cover your mortgage and other necessities. Or maybe your loneliness has turned into depression, which meant over-eating until now high blood pressure has put your health at risk. Quite often, one disaster leads to another.

When the Unthinkable Happens

Multiple catastrophes beyond imagining occurred in Japan on March 11, 2011. Missionary Roger Lowther was on his way to the dentist in Tokyo when :

• a 9.0 earthquake jolted NE Japan.
• the monster quake generated a 120-foot tsunami, a massive wave that demolished everything in its path.
• those events triggered the world’s worst nuclear disaster in decades as nuclear power plants began exploding.

Though Lowther and his family were unharmed, about 200 miles away more than 20,000 people were dead. Many survivors had nothing left but the clothes on their backs. As much as they needed food and water, they also needed hope. Risking his life, Lowther not only brought the necessary supplies, but even as the ground continued to shake, this Julliard-trained musician also began giving concerts on his keyboard.

Listening to the Music

In his book, Aroma of Beauty (highly recommended), Lowther tells the stories of how music calmed fears and made moments bearable in the aftermath of absolute devastation. As he played, people began to smile. The sweet melodies revealed a good God’s presence and compassion. With one example after another, Lowther explains how:

Brilliant color can come back into the grey colorless world. Vacant landscapes can be filled with life. The hard and inhumane can be softened. Fragments of hope can be found in this devastated world, whispering of renewal, where people flourish and every broken thing is made right (p. 107).

While hundreds of people waited in line for necessities, Lowther played for them and saw music’s life-giving power as:

an electrifying sense of hope, almost tangible, wafted through the air. It was the aroma of beauty. . . . The aroma of beauty became a seawall against the black waves of despair that threatened us every day after that tsunami. It brought an unexpected joy with the promise that a better tomorrow would come (p. 126).

My Own Personal Tsunami

Although devastation on a massive scale is certainly different from that of an individual’s own anguish, music offers a common theme. During my own tempest, I had food and shelter. Yet that didn’t fill the emptiness of despair I experienced when my husband divorced me, my sons moved too far from home to visit, and my business failed–all at once. Every day, poverty lurked threatening to devour whatever was left. I desperately needed to see a good God, who was bigger than my circumstances.

Over the next few years, music often spread its soothing balm on my battered soul. Lovely songs of hope from Psalms, like 103:1-5, eased my grief and brought God near enough that I could receive His comfort:

Bless the Lord, O my soul,
And all that is within me, bless His holy name.
Bless theLord, O my soul,
And forget none of His benefits;
Who pardons all your iniquities,
Who heals all your diseases;
Who redeems your life from the pit,
Who crowns you with lovingkindness and compassion;
Who satisfies your years with good things,
So that your youth is renewed like the eagle.

Music often spread its soothing balm on my battered soul.

Music, Sweet Music

As a young adult, I’d thought hymns boring, but during this period of grief, their powerful lyrics kept me standing on rock-solid truths. Listening to the words and learning the stories behind them helped me see others, who had survived tremendous loss. Timeless messages like the one in “How Can I Keep From Singing” lifted my spirits. If you love music, please take a moment to listen even if you don’t usually like hymns. This version is upbeat and incredibly beautiful. The words of one particular verse are especially meaningful because they explain the title of my blog and some of the The Windblown Girl’s symbolism.

No storm can shake my inmost calm,
While to that rock I´m clinging.
Since love is lord of heaven and earth
How can I keep from singing?

Just as Jesus met the people in Japan, His love met me in the devastation of my family. Often that comfort came through His word, His people and music. His love can and will meet you in your every need, no matter how great or small. It’s taken time for my agony to stop, and life is different, now. But music still expresses my joy. That’s probably why this is my favorite video on the Internet. I’ve watched it again and again, and it always makes my heart soar. I hope you’ll watch it, too.

Do you have a favorite Christian song that lifts you up? Or maybe it’s not “Christian.” To be honest, that’s not always my go to. I love John Tesh’s piano playing (the Red Rock concert that launched his career has an incredible God-story behind it) and anything Andrea Bocelli sings warms my heart. Josh Groban, too. Barbara Streisand and Celine Dion are also among my favorites. Once The Windblown Girl is published, I’m planning to provide a link to a Spotify playlist of the songs that go along with that story. That may still be a few months away, but if you subscribe to my quarterly e-newsletter, below, you won’t miss anything.