I remember many times in my life when I felt disconsolate. Nothing could console me in those times, no one could say the comforting words I needed to hear. It was as if grief had settled so deeply in my soul that nothing or no one could reach it, not even me. I survived such times throughout my life, but I might not have been able to without music.
I remember one time in particular when I was hospitalized. I was being rushed down the hallway on a gurney. I remember that I was cold. I remember being afraid. I remember seeing the lights on the ceiling. I remember tears. And I found myself whisper-singing these words, “Come, ye disconsolate, where’er ye languish.”
It is a beautiful hymn that is seldom sung in gatherings or in worship. It is by no means a happy hymn, but it speaks to a person in anguish, as it spoke to me that day. I invite you to read the lyrics.
Come, ye disconsolate, where’er ye languish;
Come to the mercy-seat, fervently kneel;
Here bring your wounded hearts, here tell your anguish,
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.
Joy of the comfortless, light of the straying,
Hope of the penitent, fadeless and pure;
Here speaks the Comforter, tenderly saying—
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot cure.
Here see the Bread of Life; see waters flowing
Forth from the throne of God, pure from above;
Come to the feast of love; come, ever knowing
Earth has no sorrow but heaven can remove.
Lyrics: Thomas Moore (1779-1852); Altered by Thomas Hastings (1784-1872); Music: Samuel Webbe (1740-1816)
In the amazing art above, a woman is shedding golden tears. Perhaps the art is saying, “God sees your tears as golden, cherished and priceless.” When I think no one sees my tears or cares about them, I remember that. And I remember this . . .
You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book. —Psalm 56:8 (NLT)
As you listen to this audio, may this beautiful hymn bring you some quiet moments.
