November 2019

I know You’re still here beside me

But I don’t hear Your voice

I have fought against the silence

But I feel like I don’t have a choice

Wheelchairs and medicine

A failing body breaking slowly

O how his figure looks so thin

Is his suff’ring somehow holy?

The sun rises in the house of mourning

I’m stuck inside this place that I can’t explain

And grief lands like a dove upon my shoulders

And I find You here with me again

Limp hands and shallow breaths

Shared prayer between us all

As we wait for sweet release of death

Then our cries ring down the halls

The sun rises in the house of mourning

I’m stuck inside this place that I can’t explain

And grief lands like a dove upon my shoulders

And I find You here with me again

Hallowed heights shadow over us

Ashes buried in the ground

Now he waits to rise again by trust

But when will peace again be found

The sun rises in the house of mourning

I’m stuck inside this place that I can’t explain

And grief lands like a dove upon my shoulders

And I find You here with me again

Standard Tuning, Cut Capo 2

Verse: E C#m [4x]

Chorus: A G#m F#m [4x]

The author and his uncle Andy, December 2018

My Uncle Andy died in October of 2019 after a three-year battle with glioblastoma brain cancer. This song was, and still is at times, my coping mechanism for his death. While that was happening, I felt at times that I was praying to God and only receiving His silence. But while I felt as though there was a lack of God’s voice, I never felt a lack of his presence. So while this song is about Andy, it’s not written to him. I found that during the period of mourning and pain afterward, it was helpful for me to write a song that acknowledged the pain and grief that was occurring (“the house of mourning”), but also acknowledging the idea of God coming and meeting us where we are in our pain – He meets us in the House of Mourning. “The sun rising in the house of mourning” can then be interpreted in a few ways. A sunrise is the beginning of a day, so this is can be seen as the beginning of a mourning period. A sunrise also comes after a long night – a respite to the darkness approaches. And it is no coincidence that “the sun” also sounds the same as “The Son” – Jesus rises again with us in the house of mourning.

In the midst of the silence, I found God alongside me – not ignoring me, but silently sitting shiva beside me. Not trying to offer an explanation, but the whole time actually waiting for my response before speaking.

As my Uncle Andy used to say: “Life is hard, and God is good.”