If I owned sufficient talent to stand before an expectant crowd just once and 'deliver the goods,' I know what I would sing. No deliberation required. Of all the options available of harmony and verse from countless ages, I could not help but choose what preaches the sweetest message to me. This is soul music in the deepest key. If ever we could seize its truth, we would move beyond theologizing about grace to hungrily devouring grace as God intended us to know it-- in hopelessness and crisis, in despair and disillusionment, in the sacred simplicity of our humanity. Read or sing these words alone or aloud and see if they do not touch some hidden hope within. Hallelujah, what a Savior!
God loves a lullaby
In a mother's tears in the dead of night,
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.
God loves the drunkard's cry
The soldier's plea not to let him die,
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes.
The woman holding on for life
The dying man giving up the fight,
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes.
The tears of shame for what's been done
The silence when the words won't come,
Are better than a Hallelujah sometimes.
Better than a church bell ringing
Better than a choir singing, singing out.
We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody.
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah.
(Lyrics by Amy Grant)
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