These Are the Days

of turbulence and triumph.

“This flood isn't made up of water
But somehow we all drown anyway
We make the ugly look so pretty and the innocent so guilty
In all of these games that we play

How're you gonna love someone if you don't forgive them?
How're you gonna hear what they say if you'll never listen?
How're you gonna stand up when the world wants you kneelin'?
How're you gonna live out the words you're preachin'
If you don't believe them?

Oh, how you gonna live them? Yeah
If you don't believe them?”

- Don’t Believe Them | lyrics by Lauren Daigle & Natalie Nicole Hemby

Oh how I wished I was against the stage with my real cameras - my old iPhone not bad from where we sat. Never been so close in a large arena as a concert goer. Right here Lauren hears the family of her singer on the far right, Brandon, screaming in the audience below the stage runway. She asks him, “Brandon, did you know they are here? say hello to your family!” Hilarious and sweet.

Saturday evening, April 20th, we celebrated 39 years of marriage in a packed arena. There were tiny precious pre-toddlers, clutched by their exuberant parents, young teens, mostly girls, who stood for two hours and praised as if this was a giant revival session with an eclectic vibe of God’s multifaceted “kaleidoscope” all around us.

You could feel the magic in the air as soon as opening act Victory Boyd began to sing. Last Autumn I wrote a short piece and included a cool playlist with her song (#3) on it, “His Eye Is On The Sparrow.” I was so moved hearing it that I did a totally not me random thing and sent it to a bunch of people in text. It felt so good to pour this beauty into friends, neighbors and family’s hearts. I feared no rejection and without caring I was surprised at the beautiful responses.

These are craving times.

We walked the long meandering parking lot and trail into the event behind a young mother and a pre-teen girl, dressed all Daigley-like, with her pure bald head glowing, skin and eyes worn down from treatment. I nodded at John, knowing that our dear, sweet house sitter (who works with children in crisis) had informed me that Lauren Daigle had sent a whole bunch of VIP ticket packets to Children’s Hospital of Orange County for her show at the Honda Center.

…and I already loved her.

In my typical fashion I got the time wrong. The morning began with an early soccer game a city over, for my grandson, while John went to orchestra practice and then to a funeral for a dear friend, both 62. He left in a t-shirt made for everyone who knew Ray. Okay. Taking a break. Some tears.

Ray was in a car accident a few weeks before my John was in an accident. Life support wasn’t sustainable. God takes and gives.

Revival of desperate souls. I saw the unseen.

Let us worship.

Movements toward faith in the middle of a worldly grabbing of lives, souls.

Little voices removed. A little voice of a neighbor’s child saying “I love you guys.”

In sickness and death comes a baby named after two grandmothers.

In the blink of an eye. Gone. And given.

Years and years of Him giving to me while I was taking.

Opportunities spent with beautiful people, talking while shooting jobs, in church, about “dying to the flesh".”

Removing myself. From my self.

When I was at the depths of my own agony, burning in my flesh, who knew that Lauren Daigle would be writing a song about the despair and her own panic attacks during the pandemic. From a young age, at 15, she had already faced a rare virus, “Cytomegalovirus,” missing school for two years, having found voice lessons as her creative outlet.

A gifted song writer with a soulful voice, bringing all the sounds and inflections of her deep southern Louisiana roots, when I first heard “Thank God I Do,” from her 2023 self-titled album, my heart sang with relief. Thank God I do. Who would I be without Him? What an amazing way to come through these last few years. Her music helped me rise. I began to thank God for everything, despite what was taken. I was so thankful and more was coming…

“I've seen love come and
I've seen love walk away
So many questions
Will anybody stay?”

Will anybody stay? My family was a mess, we were deeply alone, shamed, banished, canceled. Something terrible was brewing inside of my dad as interminable cancer was striking unknown paths throughout his once strong body.

Stills of silencing, cruelty of division and elephants in the rooms of places we couldn’t go and people we knew and loved.

The garden did not die. It was growing. God was there. I was listening. The school across the street was silent and yet I could feel Him on the playground weeping for the children at home. I wept with Him. We were all weeping inside.

“Let go of yourself. Your flesh,” He whispered intermittently during those long days.

The panic of a 15 year old unable to attend school for two years, that was Lauren’s story. The anxiety of so many young teens alone and lost during the pandemic.

Lauren’s incredible story ends with her saying this:

“And yet it is not the acclaim or the success that makes those two years of being really sick worth it. That’s not how it works. Success can disappear as quickly as it comes, and suffering is a part of life. What was true about those days I spent lying in that patch of sunlight in the loft is that God made himself known to me and in that knowing I found myself.”

I found myself too.

Lauren’s moment of worship songs with her band was incredible. Here’s a short clip that I took, seats courtesy of our youngest son at Christmas. Little did he know how life affirming this concert and moment would be. God knew.

I thought the concert was at the standard 8 p.m. So after a long day we made turkey sandwiches, packed up an ice chest and left leaving a nice two hour window at 6 p.m. getting there with time to eat. Waiting in a long line to pay an inflated parking fee is a ridiculous SoCal endeavor. We pulled into a parking spot around 6:40, wondering why everyone was parking and immediately hustling toward the stadium. John said, “maybe you should double check the tickets.” 7 p.m.! Classic Deb.

“To know me you would have to know my Friend”

When it was all over Lauren had changed the lives of not only many in that arena, she changed the lives of almost 600 children, through Child Fund, in countries where they haven’t got basic necessities for living. Food, clean running water, parents? toilets, beds to sleep on and so much more. The show opened with a young man who’s dream is to get one million children sponsored, for $39/month, in his lifetime. It took him over two years to get one village of 500 children sponsored in Africa. When Lauren met him and traveled with him, she asked “why can’t we use my concerts to make it happen faster?”

At one point, she stopped to thank the person in the arena who made and sent her the jacket she was wearing. Not cast aside with management. Not just for one song. She wore it all night. Lauren never changed out of her clothes and spoke with many children and their parents between songs.

…and I already loved her.

We still live in the most blessed country in the world. You’re welcome to erect a brand new tent on an expensive university campus, where you are privileged to take a break and eat, call your parents for more money and go back to your protest. You don’t have to care about the 110 active wars and wars of drugs, extreme poverty, etc. You can pick your flavor of madness, then juggle your classes, dance the night away in the clubs or geek out to the likes of Taylor Swift if you want… and someone will pick up your mess when you leave. Even the homeless are better off here than millions of children in our world.

Lauren Daigle represented and represents what is coming. Large crowds flocking, with humility, hands raised, tears streaming, falling to their knees, not for her, but to worship the One who came to save us from ourselves.

Who do you know that uses their power in tangible life changing ways?

How can we use our lives, broken and messy, for the good of others?

The greatest war is Satan’s, stealing the most educated minds, robbing the most vulnerable. It goes on until our flesh drops to the ground, again and again, every single day, realizing that “this is what He came for.” This is what we came for.

These are the days to smash through the turbulence, soar and live for heaven.

You thought you would never see the sun through the dark skies…

These are the days of jubilation and triumph to come.

Love,

Longing for heaven in a place called earth. ox

P.S. If you have kids, have them listen to Lauren. Best choice :)

Go to 1:05 to catch this blessing of being on the Today Show. I don’t watch any of the legacy media anymore, actually no media on TV. I wanted a good “live” version. Who could not love this sound?