Calm Down

So I’ve been thinking about this song…

Calm down, deep breaths
And get yourself dressed
Instead of running around
And pulling on your threads
And breaking yourself up

If it's a broken part, replace it
If it's a broken arm, then brace it
If it's a broken heart, then face it

And hold your own, know your name
And go your own way.
Hold your own, know your name
And go your own way.
And everything will be fine.

Hang on, help is on the way
And stay strong, I'm doing everything…

A remarkable phenomenon has transpired in me over the past several months. Perhaps it’s not really remarkable or phenomenal, but something has changed within me. It’s as if someone pushed a button in my head that has caused me to filter music differently. As of late, songs that aren’t about my friend Jesus have been making me think about Jesus. I don’t know if Jesus sings, I never read about it in the bible—but I do know that God created music. Music can transcend all time and space and well, everything. Just like God. Music has the ability to transform a mood, a heart, a soul... just like God.

I have always loved music: I love to listen to music. I love to dance to music. I love to sing to music. Music speaks to the depths of my soul unlike anything else.

So back to the singing Jesus idea.

When I listen to the melody and understand the lyrics of many songs, I begin to think of Jesus saying those things to me. Maybe he sings, maybe he doesn’t—but I feel like he’s saying something to me. And yes, maybe his message is coming from Jason Mraz singing “Details In the Fabric”! More than who is singing or what they look like or what the image they portray is… what matters the most, is that at the moment, that song penetrated my heart and my soul—I just heard from my friend, Jesus.

Jesus is reassuring me. I can hear him saying “Calm down, Melissa. Take a deep breath… it’s going to be okay.” This I imagine much like days of my youth when my Dad would remove me from an overwhelming and upsetting situation and attempt to calm me down. He would always remind me to take deep breaths and he would count out loud with me. “But Daddy, you don’t understand!” I would cry, all while taking huge gulps of air in between each word. He would make me look him in the eyes; he’d place his hands on my arms and say “Look at me, Melissa. Take a deep breath. Calm down… 1..2..3…4…5…6… it’s going to be okay.”

Jesus is still reassuring me. He’s helping me focus on him. He’s assuring me that I can go the way his father has asked me to go. He is reminding me that I know my name-- because sometimes I forget. He’s gently reminding me that there is healing for the broken stuff. He’s reminding me that I am loved more than I can even imagine.

And you know what? You are loved more than you can even imagine.