Guest Worship-Artist-in-Res (WAirR) (Peace)

When it Seems the Day Will End  When it seems the day will end / And all light give way to fear / we will speak Your name again / to remind us You are here   Chorus: New life rising (echo) Ashes falling (echo) Joy and weeping (echo) In Your calling (echo)   When it seems the day will end / Sinking low under our sin / We are dead and born again / And, with You, now enter in   When it seems the day will end / And a coldness fills our bones / We will walk the way You've been / And our hearts will be Your home   ----------   Lent is this time of year where we experience something that seems very much like darkness.   Think about this: We’ve gone through the church season of Epiphany talking about light, and God revealed, and then BOOM we hit this nasty wall of silence, waiting, fasting, praying, . . . if I didn’t know better, I’d think we had been invited to Light’s funeral. And I feel like curling up into a ball under my bed. But then nothing would ever get done.   So I was driving home – I do a lot of driving – thinking about Humble Walk, knowing that I’d be spending a few months with you as a “Worship Artist in Residence” (this is a term I invented to make myself feel important). I realized that, from my perspective, the Humble Walk community exists at the edge of darkness, only less ominous/Mel-Gibson-movie-sounding.   Every time you meet, you sort of usher in the evening, compete with the noise of the commute home, and put the day to rest. You’re a Lenten church. You’re also an Easter church, and an Advent church, and a Pentecost church, but play along for now.   I wrote this song to give voice to people who walk through darkness, but also those who remember that the day never really ends. It just starts all over again, and so we wait, and fast, and pray, knowing that Light doesn’t die.   I don’t want to sell “seeming” short, either. Don’t make the mistake of thinking that “seeming” isn’t real. It’s just a question of perspective. Some of us are blessed to know that the daylight will come back. But for those of us who are suffering with illness, depression, or something worse, the seeming-end is very real. And I'm guessing that we've all been both of those people before.     This is our calling as followers of Jesus, especially during Lent. If we’re in a good place, we’re asked to crawl down into the darkness to walk with those who think the day is ending, because for them it is. If we’re in the darkness already, we just keep walking, knowing that the light of Christ goes before us. That’s what I mean by saying that “we will walk the way Jesus has been.” In that way, Jesus’ way, there’s life and death, joy and weeping, light, and what seems like darkness.   I’m excited to sing this song with you when we gather every week. And I’m excited for our Easter vigil, too, but don’t tell anyone. -Justin Rimbo, WAiR