Learning To Jump Again Songs: "I Hardened My Heart On A Thursday"

Some of you have read my self-published book Learning To Jump Again, which started as a personal journal of grief after my father died. I eventually made it public in hopes that it could help others as they grieve the loss of a loved one. 

Within that book were some poems, for better or worse.

When my friend Avery introduced me to the AI music-making website Suno, those poems definitely changed for the better.

I altered some of the language of the original poems to get a more singable cadence; in some, I added a chorus. In the process, I tried to find a soundtrack that matched the mood in my head. 

Here is the third one (the first one is here; the second one is here.). 

What follows is the updated poem/lyrics, followed by a link to Suno if you care to listen.

"I Hardened My Heart On A Thursday"

I hardened my heart on a Thursday;
I had to drive south through the night.
Friday morning Mom’s hug broke it open,
But since then it’s been pretty tight.

I shut down my eyes on that Saturday,
The viewing did not need more tears.
That Sunday I shut them much tighter,
And now I’ve been squinting for years.

With a shovel, I buried my father that Monday,
On Tuesday, without one, I buried him more.
When on Wednesday we drove home, heading North, back to normal ,

I buried his memory deep in my core.

Now the drive to be healed is a chisel;
Father Time lends strength to each blow.
And I’m digging my way through my soul, to the core, 

To liberate memories I need more and more.

With a shovel, I buried my father that Monday,
On Tuesday, without one, I buried him more.
When on Wednesday we drove home, heading North, back to normal
I buried his memory deep in my core.

Every layer I lift from my memories
Stirs the dust on the ache in my chest.
What I buried to keep myself steady
Now demands to be held and confessed.
And somewhere below all the rubble and stone,
There’s a son who is yearning to rest.

With a shovel, I buried my father that Monday,
On Tuesday, without one, I buried him more.
When on Wednesday we drove home, heading North, back to normal
I buried his memory deep in my core.

 https://suno.com/s/auVOhA7YpNMl2vih

Learning To Jump Again: The Songs ("No One Tells You")

Some of you have read my self-published book Learning To Jump Again, which started as a personal journal of grief after my father died. I eventually made it public in hopes that it could help others as they grieve the loss of a loved one. 

Within that book were some poems, for better or worse.

When my friend Avery introduced me to the AI music-making website Suno, those poems definitely changed for the better.

I altered some of the language of the original poems to get a more singable cadence; in some, I added a chorus. In the process, I tried to find a soundtrack that matched the mood in my head. 

Here is the second one (the first one is here). 

What follows is the updated poem/lyrics, followed by a link to Suno if you care to listen.

No One Tells You

No one tells you that the viewing
Cuts deeper than the grave,
You dread it like the darkness,
But it’s the moment that you crave.
You walk in feelin’ empty,
But it’s also the place that you’re brave.

No one tells you that the faces
Say words that sound so kind,
But they float like smoke and vanish,
They don’t ease your troubled mind.
Your daddy is silent and cold
And it burns your soul inside.

No one tells you, no one tells you,
What this pain will really do.
No one tells you, no one tells you,
How the grief comes crashin’ through.
You can’t touch him, can’t embrace him,
And the blues just pour from you.

No one tells you ‘bout the moment,
You must lay him in the ground,
How six feet feels like miles,
And the world don’t make a sound.
You walk away still fallin’,
‘Cause your grief knows no bound.

You know the funeral’s over,
But the hurt has just begun,
The days get long and lonely,
When the crowded days are done.
You pray into the silence,
And you wonder if you reach anyone.

And one day when you're drivin’,
And the sun cuts through the haze,
He’s sittin’ right there beside you,
As if he'd moved in to this place.
You pull over just to breathe again,
And let your heart hold space.

No one tells you, no one tells you,
‘Bout the tears you can’t outrun.
No one tells you, no one tells you,
Grief’s a weight that won’t be done.
And in the ache and in the memory,

You just have to let the tears run

You just have to let the tears run.

https://suno.com/s/61VzVJli0rLvOJiy

Learning To Jump Again: The Songs ("My Father Just Shriveled")

Some of you - tens, even - have read my self-published book Learning To Jump Again, which started as a personal journal of grief after my father died. I eventually made it public in hopes that it could help others as they grieve the loss of a loved one. 

Within that book were some poems, for better or worse.

When my friend Avery introduced me to the AI music-making website Suno, those poems changed for the better. Over time, I altered some of the language of the original poems to get a more singable cadence; in some, I added a chorus. In the process, I tried to find a soundtrack that matched the mood in my head. 

Here is the first one. 

I was at an aunt and uncle's house one holiday when I wrote this. It was at the end of a day of being with family, and I missed him so much, and this is just where I was at that moment. It's not hopeful - I have other songs that will get there - but it was honest, and I think God is fan of honesty, and big enough to handle my despair.

 First, the updated poem/lyrics; second, a link to Suno if you care to listen.

My Father Just Shriveled

My father just shriveled, dried up in his bed.
With my tears I watered the grave of the dead.
Then I staggered back home,
A few miles too far
from a father who loved me,
And who was not anymore.

Oh, death just keeps taking and stealing—
unrelenting and terribly bold.
I’ve been begging the sky for mercy,
But the heavens stay quiet and cold.
If grief is a river I’m drowning,
where does a broken man go?

Now my life’s stream is stagnant, losing its flow.
The source has dried up—how was I to know?
A wraith with a sickle stole my peace and my love,
And no water replenishes me from above.

Oh, death just keeps taking and stealing—
unrelenting and terribly bold.
I’ve been begging the sky for mercy,
But the heavens stay quiet and cold.
If grief is a river I’m drowning,
Where does a broken man go?

If death weren’t so sneaky, we’d meet, he and I
If death weren’t so cold, I would greet him.
If death could stop haunting our stories and songs,
We would not have to think of him quite so damn long.
But death is a robber who aims for our souls;
Our lives he despises while grief rivers roll.
He’s cold in his heart, And as fierce as a fire—
and he constantly robs us of those we desire
To stay,
And to live,
And to love.

Oh, death just keeps taking and stealing—
unrelenting and terribly bold.
I’ve been begging the sky for mercy,
But the heavens stay quiet and cold.
If grief is a river I’m drowning,
Tell me—where does a broken man go?
Where does a broken man go?

https://suno.com/s/91204PbTUXUhx1l3

What Would Stephen Say Today?

 It's been a minute. There's a lot going on in my life and the world, and I have busy other places.

This past Sunday, our text was Acts 6-7, where Stephen answers his accusers by walking them through their own history to point out how often they were an unfaithful lot that constantly refused to listen to God's messengers, the prophets, to the point of persecuting and even killing them (culminating in Jesus). 

This highlights their hypocrisy—they cherished the Law and the Temple but had completely failed at the core ethical demands of the Law. They kept repeating the same pattern of resistance to God’s chosen deliverers and to His Spirit. They proved Stephen’s point immediately by killing him.

I did some research on what the prophets they rejected had to say. I think it’s really important that we learn from our spiritual history. (You can read the full sermon notes here.)  Then, I did my best to pull Stephen's speech into 21st century United States. 

Being The Church: A 21st Century Creed For The Church

In a world darkened by cruelty and power,
We will walk in compassion, clothed with mercy and kindness.
Where hearts grow cold and violence reigns,
We will be peacemakers, bringing hope in the midst of strife.

In an age obsessed with image and outward appearances,
We will value righteousness and purity of heart.
Where hypocrisy and performance deceive,
We will live with authenticity and grace.

In a culture that rejects with unrighteous judgement,
We will move toward others in the name of Christ.
When others say, “We don’t want you here,”
We say, “Come to God’s table, there is room at the feast for all.”

In a generation that calls evil good and good evil,
We will hunger and thirst for righteousness.
Where injustice is ignored and the weak are crushed,
We will act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly with God.

When the world chases wealth and self-exaltation,
We will pursue contentment, generosity, and humility.
Where pride builds thrones and hoards treasure,
We will follow the crucified King who gave himself for all.

When people trade love for lust and covenant for convenience,
We will honor one another with boundaries and sacred trust.
Where others use and discard,
We will protect, cherish, and remain faithful.

When others stir up hatred and division,
We will walk by the Spirit with love, peace, and self-control.
In the midst of a crooked and confused generation,
We will shine like stars by following in the footsteps of Jesus.

The NBA and ChatGPT (Nerd Addition)

Alright, here's the deal. I love basketball. I like statistical analysis. And I am learning how to use AI to my advantage. 

I had an interesting interchange with Chat GPT about some of the greatest players in the NBA. I offer this for several reasons.

First, I find in fascination how changing parameters changers answers. Statistics are tricky things. They give answers that reflect that questions and parameters you set. They can give you a truth based on your rubric that is not the same at truth. Maybe there is a life lesson here? 

Second, I think it simultaneously shows the incredible opportunity AI provides (I got these answers in seconds) and the limits of computation (you are going to disagree with some of the answers because there is still some component that neither I nor ChatGPT thought of).

So, with no further ado, here we go.

When The Church Is At Its Best/Worst (Part Two: At Its Worst)

I have been using ChatGPT recently to help me do some research on church history. It's a handy tool. Previously, I typed in this question:

Throughout global church history, what has characterized the Christian church when it was most effectively acting as "salt of the earth" and "a city on a hill"?

Today, I typed in this question:

Throughout global church history, what has characterized the Christian church when it was least effectively acting as "salt of the earth" and "a city on a hill"?

ChatGPT responded this way - and I have to tell you, I think it's a pretty good overview. 

* * * * *

"Throughout global church history, there have been several periods when the Christian church has struggled to effectively act as "salt of the earth" and "a city on a hill"—terms from Jesus' Sermon on the Mount that denote the church’s calling to be a moral preservative in society and a beacon of light and hope. In these moments, the church has often failed to live up to its ideals and mission, typically due to factors such as complicity with power structures, corruption, and a failure to prioritize justice, mercy, and truth. Here are some key periods and characteristics of the church when it least effectively embodied its calling:

When The Church Is At Its Best/Worst (Part One: At Its Best)

I have been using ChatGPT recently to help me do some research on church history. It's a handy tool. Today, I typed in this question:

Throughout global church history, what has characterized the Christian church when it was most effectively acting as "salt of the earth" and "a city on a hill"?

ChatGPT responded this way - and I have to tell you, from the bits that I know about church history, I think it's a pretty decent overview. It's skewed toward examples in the West, but it's insightful for how the church is present everywhere. 

* * * * *

Throughout global church history, the periods when the Christian church has most effectively acted as "salt of the earth" and "a city on a hill"—terms from Jesus' Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5:13-16)—are marked by several key characteristics that reflect both the transformative power of the gospel and the church's moral and social engagement. Here are some key periods and traits that exemplify this influence:

The Prophetic Witness of the Church

Today's post is courtesy of Mike Eerie on his podcast Voxology, particularly episodes 491 and 492.  I edited for readability (podcast to prose can be tricky).

"Paul’s emphasis is on the church being transformed. The world could and may well be transformed through the church being transformed, but that’s the order. That’s the priority. The church is to be transformative by being the church. The role of me as a Jesus person is not to change other people as much as it is to be the one who is primarily changed.

The primary way the New Testament talks about sharing our faith is through the witness of the church community. The way the world is transformed is by being the church. Here are commandments to the church for how to do that from the epistles in the Bible.