Be My Warmth

If "Windrunner" brought closure to our long, dark season of infertility and loss of a child, then "Be My Warmth" came before, in the middle of that season. I wrote this song in a desperate moment. It didn't take long because there wasn't much to say. All I had were questions, but much of what I grew up with discouraged questioning, especially in the area of faith. So what was I supposed to do when I was faced with the cognitive dissonance? Life was no longer black and white. Lines had blurred. And I want to be specific about what those lines were. Fundamentalism thrives on certainty, "stressing strict and literal adherence to a basic set of principles" (Merriam-Webster). There is no room for doubt. The message I heard growing up was "Do the right things, don't ask questions, and things will work out." So if I could look at my life and say with all honesty that I was trying and mostly succeeding in doing the "right things", why had I lost my child? Was the inverse then true? If things weren't "working out" then was I to blame? This was the wave that threatened to crush me, suffocate me. How do you even begin to untangle something that reaches down to your very identity? It felt like if I touched it at all, I would find myself undone, unanchored. But I had already started strumming the strings, saying the words. It was too late. And it was one of the best decisions I ever made. This song isn't unique or awe-inspiring. It's not life-altering in its composition, instrumentation, or lyricism. It's not saying or doing anything new. But if you're reading this, I want you to hear me: the process of writing and singing this song freed me. It's a lament that carries the weight of years of compounded and unprocessed grief and questions, and when I mustered the courage to sing it for the first time, it began to transform me from a creature of fear into one of calm acceptance. The world did not end when I asked God hard questions. As author and speaker Skye Jethani frequently says (I'm paraphrasing a bit), "How weak must your god be if he can't handle your questions and doubts?" I became a person capable of acknowledging the chaotic, unanswerable aspects of existence (and the despair with which it can bludgeon you) and clinging to the hope of the reality of someone greater than the chaos. There may be some who read this and end up parting ways with me at many levels. That's totally fine. I'm not writing these words nor sharing this song to convert or even persuade. I'm doing this to tell you a story of how someone can be changed by letting go of fear through asking hard questions, then clinging to hope when it doesn't make sense to do so. A couple of notes: 1) When Jane was born, neither Sharon nor I looked at each other and said "She is the reward for our suffering" or "She is proof that we were doing the "right things"." I have literally heard people say that's exactly what happened. All I have to say is that my daughter is a *person*, not proof that we followed the rules nor a reward for suffering and still choosing to believe. To follow that train of thought leads to climbing out of one ditch and falling into another ditch on the other side of the road. 2) I still doubt. I am still uncertain. I have really, really bad days where I feel like nothing is real and I do not matter. But the difference is that now I'm not afraid of what will happen as a result of feeling doubt, uncertainty, and purposelessness. I am free. Anyway, as you listen, join me in the tension. If you feel safe doing so, share with me in the comments struggles you have had with cognitive dissonance/black and white vs. gray/unbundling (and not just in the realm of faith). I'd love to hear from you and join you in your struggle, past or present. You are welcome here. As always, thank you for listening. Thank you ​⁠‪@infamoti‬ for your incredible work on this song and the video. Our partnership has been and continues to be such an encouragement. Links: https://open.spotify.com/track/26RNPB...   / be-my-warmth-single   https://drive.google.com/file/d/1zvxg...