I stood alone in my apartment, still wrestling with the fact that the world had shut down. No training or seminary class had prepared me for 2020 and the questions rising in my soul. What do you do when you don’t know what to do? How do you tell your family that better days are ahead when the data seems to indicate otherwise? At the corner of confusion and despair, however, songs from the African American church began to seep out of the furrows of my soul. They were songs like “I Need Thee,” “Father, I Stretch My Hands to Thee,” and “I Love the Lord, He Heard My Cry.” My mouth caught up with my soul, and I made a “joyful noise to the Lord” (Ps. 100:1). Those melodies from heaven seemed to evict despair and confusion from my apartment. It was a reminder that I need to sing more. I submit that we need to sing more—and sing louder.
Amplify Your Quiet Time
Years ago, I was introduced to the concept of a “quiet time.” The phrase never fully resonated with me. I come from a Christian tradition that considers volume a pleasing and acceptable offering to the Lord. The phrase “quiet time” made me wonder: Is reverence chained to silence? Has someone implicitly decided that noise is unholy?
What about the documented moments of Jesus with the Father? Jesus withdrew and prayed, which we can assume was not quiet (Luke 5:16; Mark 1:35). Consider the garden of Gethsemane and how the disciples could hear Jesus’ sorrowful prayers to the Father (Matt. 26:36–46). The writer of Hebrews indicates Jesus was noisy and reverent (Heb. 5:7). Jesus had some loud times with the Father, so we can, too.
After you feasted on the Word, what if you allowed unrefined, sincere praise to rise from your lips? When the pen retreats from the page of your journal, what if you made a joyful noise to the Lord? I encourage you to sing not only in public worship but also in your private time with the Lord. Sing the songs often reserved for the shower. Let your songs resound in your hallways. Keep a melody in your heart and don’t be afraid to let others hear it.
Melodies in the Maladies
In this life, woes and worries plague us until the Savior returns. Too often, we resort to our own will, ways, and wisdom to fix our afflictions. But what if we followed the path of the psalmists and sang in our affliction?
David sang in Psalm 3 when thousands of people were pursuing his life. He sang when he felt forgotten by God (Ps. 13). After grievous sin and deep repentance, he gave us Psalm 51—a song born from brokenness. Scripture shows us again and again that God’s people sing and pray in dire situations.
What about you? Does work place a heavy yoke on your shoulders? Has the brokenness of those you serve burdened your soul? What about your children who constantly remind you of their sinful nature? What do you do when death and disease continue to greet you at the house of the Lord?
I encourage you to sing. Singing is not a magical incantation that removes the woes and worries, but it does lift the soul. In my apartment, the hymns didn’t remove the pandemic, but they quieted the pandemonium within.
Keep Singing
“I have a bone to pick with you,” she said while towering over me. I looked up at her in anticipation of being reprimanded. She continued by saying, “I can’t hear you sing anymore.”
On a typical Sunday morning, she sat two rows in front of us and once told me she enjoyed hearing me sing. That day, she urged me to sing louder. After our conversation, my mind drifted to Ephesians 5:19 and the call to address one another in psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. We are meant to hear one another sing.
What if, on Sunday morning, we put away the worshipful whispers and hushed hymns? Beloved, shout to the Lord so the words of your unrefined praise might encourage the souls of those around you. Turn the volume up so those watching might ask about what keeps you singing. Let the joyful noise echo through the sanctuary, because God is worthy of it all. Brothers and sisters, we need to sing more—and sing louder.
