When You Cannot Sing, Let the Church Sing for You
I stood in the sanctuary, surrounded by voices lifted in song, and I felt tears threaten to stream down my face. The words of one of my favorite hymns, “The Solid Rock,” were on the screen, and my voice cracked as I tried to sing the second verse:
“When darkness seems to hide His face,
I rest on His unchanging grace.
In every high and stormy gale,
My anchor holds within the veil.
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand,
All other ground is sinking sand.”
There are times when the words of a song ring so true to my own lived experience that I am overcome, and such was the case with this song. Darkness had been hiding God’s face for months, and I struggled to see the truth. Depression had been haunting my days and nights with frustrating consistency, and I was tired. It is hard to rest when the storm is raging. Merely making it to church felt like a victory, and I didn’t know if I had the strength to sing the words I wanted desperately to believe.
In that moment at church, the pain I felt mingled with the hope I wanted to have, and I was unable to sing. As I fought to hold back my tears, I let myself simply listen to the strong voices surrounding me. The ache in my heart lessened a bit as I let the truths of the song begin to permeate the thick fog in my mind.
It was then that I felt what I know to be true of corporate worship: the church sings to God but also to and for His people. Singing is both an act of worship to God and a ministry to His children. When we sing together, we are agreeing with the truths presented in the song, and we are singing them over one another as we offer up the notes in a sacrifice of praise. Corporate worship is one way that we can “rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep”1; as our minds go to those among us who are suffering or celebrating, we offer the words of the songs as prayers of supplication or thanksgiving. When we sing to one another, we are fulfilling the command in Ephesians that says we are to address one another with “psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs.”2 Corporate worship strengthens the bond of a church, for a church that is united in praise will be united in faith and love.
There have been many days when it was hard for me to sing, when all I could do was bow my head and allow others to sing for me. There are also days when the opposite is true, and I lift my voice with gladness and sing to those around me who may be feeling the weight of sadness. God does not require us to feel a certain way when we come to corporate worship; He only wants us to come and present all that we are as an offering to Him.
If your heart is overwhelmed and weary and you feel tears rising to the surface, let them fall. You never know who might need to see those tears. They might give someone else the freedom to let their own tears fall. And you never know who might need to hear your voice proclaiming truth and praise when they feel unable to. Whether or not you sing on key, let your voice ring loud and true; it is a gift of worship to the Lord and an encouragement to your brothers and sisters in Christ.
When you cannot sing the words, let the church sing for you.
When your mind can barely form a prayer, let the church pray for you.
When your tears fall fast and hard, let the church weep with you.
No matter the struggle, no matter the heartache, it is all easier to bear when there are many arms holding you up. Open yourself up to the care of the church, the very hands and feet of Christ, and there you will find love and help.
A version of this essay originally appeared on the now-defunct (in)courage website.
Romans 12:15
Ephesians 5:19
I could relate greatly to this article because of a decade of many tearful Sundays as we endured infertility and recurrent losses. But in another way, your words sit profoundly in my heart...
After my 2011 strokes, my voice was paralyzed for a few years. I could speak, but it was monotone, haulting, robotic, with no ability to fluctuate tone, no emotional expression, and severe unpredictability in timing, cadence, or flow of words. As speaking slowly began to smooth and some inflection returned to my speaking voice, my singing voice I used to take great pride in, remained broken for several more years.
Almost 15 years later, I can sing again, but it is more "joyful noise" than music to my own ears. Many times I choose to sign anyway, in thankfulness that God has given me back this ability. But usually for at least one song a week, I realize my own voice has dropped and I have been blessed to sit silently in the blessing of worship through hearing the song of the saints around me.
After my stillbirth, I would start sobbing after the first word of "Children of the Heavenly Father" or "Away in a Manger". It took about 10 years to get past that. Bless you for sharing your story. Sending much love and support from one that has walked in those shoes.🥲😘🫶