Jerusalem (Song Story)

In February of 2013, I participated in an online community project called “February Album Writers Month” where people across the world aim to write 14 songs during the 28 days of February. I challenged myself not online to write the songs but to write them with a theme: I wrote songs about death from a variety of perspectives, not merely grief.

This song in particular is based on a very small, moving, and difficult experience I had on a mission trip during the summer of 2011 (I think it was 2011 anyway).

That summer, I went with my new church to Guatemala on a mission trip. For many previous summers I had gone to the same spot in another country and had grown comfortable with the routine and the people. This was a new experience and in many ways, it was unsatisfying because I compared it with my previous experiences. One encounter has stuck with me for years, and is the basis for a song I wrote called “Jerusalem”.

The orphanage where we were trying to serve in Guatemala was one of few, if not the only one, in the country that was equipped to care for children who were on dialysis. The week we were there, the orphanage was preparing to welcome a child who was very sick. We were told, when we asked, that they did not expect the girl to live more than a few weeks. A few of us were given the task of cleaning her room in preparation for her arrival–we needed to disinfect every surface because her immune system was so weak. It was a nearly silent task, a few of us women armed with sponges and disinfectants, wiping down every inch we could reach. The atmosphere was almost tangibly heavy with the knowledge that we were, essentially, preparing a space for a child to die with dignity and care.

I’ve never been in that situation before and I hope to never be in it again. I never saw the little girl who was coming to live in the orphanage. I can only imagine what her face looked like, what her name was, or what dreams she held in her small but infinite soul.

I also didn’t have a chance to talk about the experience while on the trip. I think it was too scary and strange for me to feel comfortable talking about, and no one else brought it up so it stayed inside for a long time. But then the time seemed right to write out some of my feelings during that February of writing songs about death.

Here are the lyrics of “Jerusalem”:

Empty walls so quiet and small surround your humble bed

Fragile feet will part these sheets, these shrouds of rosy red

No mother weeps, her child to sleep beneath the rocky ground

I try hold my quaking soul but can’t contain the sound

Sleep little baby, the sun going west says, “Slumber awaits you, sweet eternal rest.

I’ll hold you, my darling, until your sleep ends; you’ll wake up tomorrow in Jerusalem.”

Empty hands in foreign lands are all I have to give

I confess my helplessness: I cannot make you live

No story tells how funeral bells haunt the motherless child

All I can do is prepare your tomb and send you to bed with a smile

Sleep little baby, the sun going west says, “Slumber awaits you, sweet eternal rest.

I’ll hold you, my darling, until your sleep ends; you’ll wake up tomorrow in Jerusalem.”

 

 

I recorded the song using my very limited technology during Mission Year, out in the garden with the beautiful chirping birds. Please excuse the poor quality 🙂