Singing the Blues

I sat by the piano tonight.

Alone, with silence and anticipation, I played them again: the tunes of my soul. I sang, rather loudly, with no hesitation. The text was before me; I did not need to remember it. I worked on the music, the expression, the rocky rhythm of the blues. The tune was never quite the same; it shifted as I let the harsh words out, as they clenched my soul to squeal in stocky rhythms, a delightful syncopated offbeat and a boogie. I was singing a rendering of Psalm 139: “Search me, O God… and know my heart.” Shrill notes were shattering the darkness, on pitch, strong and intriguing, an octave apart, “ Oh, LORD! You have searched me, you know me…from afar…you understand my thoughts.”

            It was great. I loved it. I was back into blues and boogie. It was raw.

Turning away from the piano, I smiled and chuckled – I would never do anything like this in public! I would not feel confident enough. And it would rebuff my present image. I am an ordinary, quite serious, cultured, intellectual wanna-be. Of course, it is not indecent in any way; it would just be unexpected.

Perhaps, if I were in a dimly lit room, with a certain buzz of people’s chatter – no,… not where people know me. It is too embarrassing. I probably would goof, tone it down and be feeble. But the blues is loud, powerful, sharp, intruding and intriguing. That makes it also vulnerable to hesitation.

Some things are for the private sphere, I conclude – not the message of the psalm, but the delivery of me singing the blues. Let me rather recite.

“Search me, O, God

And know my heart!

Try me and know my thoughts!

And see if any wicked way be in me,

And lead me to the everlasting way I sought.

Oh, Lord, You have searched me,

You know me.

From afar you understand my thoughts.

With all my ways you are acquainted.

You know it all, my Lord,

And I did know it not.

Where shall I go to escape from your Spirit?

And where shall I flee from your face?

If I make my bed in Sheol

You still will find me,

If in heaven, I there behold your grace.

If I rise on the wings of the dawn

And settle on the farthest side of ocean vast,

Even there your holy hand will guide me,

And your right hand will always hold me fast.

Search me, O God…