Weekend Lyrics: Get Me Through December

Get Me Through December

Artist: Alison Krauss
Album: A Hundred Miles Or More: A Collection


How pale is the sky that brings forth the rain
As the changing of seasons prepares me again
For the long bitter nights and the wild winter's day
My heart has grown cold my love stored away
My heart has grown cold my love stored away


I've been to the mountain left my tracks in the snow
Where souls have been lost and the walking wounded go
I've taken the pain no girl should endure
Faith can move mountains of that I am sure
But faith can move mountains of that I am sure


Just get me through December
A promise I'll remember
Get me through December
So I can start again


No divine purpose brings freedom from sin
And peace is a gift that must come from within
I've looked for the love that will bring me to rest
Feeding this hunger beating strong in my chest
Feeding this hunger beating strong in my chest


Get me through December
A promise I'll remember
Get me through December
So I can start again


[Get Me Through December Lyrics on http://www.lyricsmania.com/ ]

Why I chose these lyrics: First, I absolutely love Alison Krauss--her musicianship is outstanding, her voice is amazing. During an All Songs Considered podcast summing up the best and worst in music for 2007, one of the commentators remarked that Krauss is arguably the best voice in country music today. She is currently grabbing a great deal of attention from critics and fans alike for her collaboration of duets with Robert Plant on the album Raising Sand. (Yup, that one's on my wish list too!).

Hannukah came early in December this year and once I started listening to A Hundred Miles or More, I found myself listening to this CD every night. Most of the songs on this album are somber, yet somehow Krauss infuses them with hope and and light. The entire album is wonderful, however, I found myself hitting the 'repeat' button a lot during Get Me Through December because right now it is the song on the album that speaks to me the most.

Krauss sings the song that I could not voice. Her words are, in a sense, the prayer I couldn't pray. She's crying out to get through her heartache, which makes the song seem like it's just a downer. But she overshadows the sadness by transmitting, through her voice, hope--in faith and finding peace within. Her voice is quiet, mellow, and gentle, yet passionate, spiritual and powerful at the same time.

I don't like to 'wish time away'. I'm not ready for another year to be over yet. But at the same time, December has been one of those 'icky' months. I have been struggling concurrently spiritually, emotionally and physically which is always a recipe for emotional disaster and meltdown. The Lyme treatment hasn't been going so hot, the stress level in our home is beyond high, and I am wondering why I can't find my spiritual center.

Most of the time I am able to find contentment, joy, gratitude and acceptance of what is. But sometimes, as I did this month, I find myself weary, tired, frustrated and angry--at this illness, at what it's taken from me, at feeling trapped in my own body, and so much more.

I'm currently listening to a Jewish fiction book, Joy Comes in the Morning. The title is based on Psalm 30: "The weeping comes at night, but joy comes in the morning." The Rabbi, and main character, is having a spiritual crisis herself. Although the book is not the greatest in many respects, it speaks to me deeply in regards to where I am at spiritually. Another character in the book asks: "Joy comes in the morning. Or does it? Is it all a lie?" What this book has reminded me is that we all, no matter how spiritual, find ourselves doubting and questioning. One of my favorite aspects of Judaism is the aspect that requires us to question G-d.

I only have one more disc left (which I hope to finish tonight) and I have confidence that Joy will come in the morning at the end of this book, even if it is bittersweet. And, as I always do, I'll find my way back to joy. In reality, I have little to complain about in comparison to other times of crisis. I've found myself asking myself, "What is my problem?" or chastising myself to, "Snap out of it." This doesn't work. We grieve in many ways, on may levels, and for many different reasons. And this month I just needed a little time to grieve--and weep.

Blessings,

Emily


Note: This 'inspirational' blog post is dedicated to my favorite cynic, Uncle Stan.