by Ginny Owens
The group of believing saints, as diverse and messy as they are, will become one united, beautiful, overjoyed bride who cannot keep from singing. How can we imagine this?
For one thing, that person who always ends up in the row behind you on Sundays, singing off-key during worship and bending your ear with all the stories of her woes before you can scuttle out after the service, will be standing next to you, bellowing a beautiful melody that fits perfectly with your harmony. And you’ll absolutely love singing with her!
Surrounding you will be people from everywhere. As Shai Linne said, “The Lord Jesus Christ is so glorious that one people group is not enough to reflect his greatness. He wants all of them.”3
John wrote earlier in this letter, “I looked, and there was a vast multitude from every nation, tribe, people, and language, which no one could number, standing before the throne and before the Lamb.… And they cried out in a loud voice: Salvation belongs to our God, who is seated on the throne, and to the Lamb!” (Rev. 7:9–10).
One of my favorite parts of living on this planet is the diversity of people. I first began to learn the beauty of the sound of our different voices and hearts at my predominantly African American school growing up. As I’ve traveled the world, my admiration for all the peoples God has made has grown immeasurably.
As I write this chapter, we are six months into the COVID-19 pandemic. My church here in the city gathers every morning for a time of prayer online. We’re a pretty diverse crew, but our cries to the Lord for healing and change are lifted as one.
Heaven will be like this, except the song will not be one of lament, pleading, or anguish. It will be a song of joy, awe, and celebration. It will be sung to the Lord and the Lamb, who will be right there in our midst. Not some mysterious heavenly choir, but your voice and mine, your life experience and mine, raised together in the most perfect song of praise.
I think of how many people I’ve sung with here on earth whom I can’t wait to sing with again. Like my dear cousin Christi, who passed away of brain cancer. I have a recording of us singing together when I was eight and she was eleven: “Oh Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth!” (Ps. 8:1).
We will sing again with Christi.
I remember playing and singing hymns with my grandpa, a kind and humble pastor with a big, booming preaching and singing voice. He sat beside me at the old upright, my eight-year-old fingers navigating the few keys in which I could play hymns. His bellowing voice sometimes cracked as he gamely reached for notes that were just beyond his reach, for the sole sake of singing with his granddaughter. I remember singing hymns of hopeful mourning without him as we laid him to rest after years of poor health.
We will sing again with Grandpa.
I recall singing with my friend Ronell, who was just twenty when she passed away:
When you know you’re holding tighter to His hand,
That’s when you can say amen.4
In her last days, she said to me, “Tomorrow I might wake up and find a miracle has happened to my body. Or tomorrow I might wake up in the arms of Jesus. Either way, I win.”
When we have won, once and for all, we will join Ronell in song.
As you fill in the song with memories of the saints you’ve loved and lost, think also of the ones who have lived in ages past, whose songs of suffering and joy have stirred our hearts. Consider the saints whose stories have leapt off the pages of our Bibles. People like Leah, alone and unloved, except by her heavenly Father. Like Moses, the aged shepherd, whose heart came to look like God’s. Like Hannah, who gave up her victimhood for a lifetime of joy and sacrifice. And the list goes on.
All the singers of God’s hope from all over the world and all the ages will stand together, no longer lone voices in their suffering but united in their joy. United also by their stories of how the Lord brought them to this place, declaring that, indeed, nothing had separated them from the love of Christ (Rom. 8:39). They lived blocks or oceans apart. And months or centuries apart. But those who have known the joy of singing about God’s hope in darkness will sing to Him together in perfect light.
Best of all, the One who sang hope to us down through the ages will be in our midst. We will sing to Him, and He will, as He has always done, sing over us.
As I reflect on this part of John’s song, I’m guided to live wholeheartedly in community now. My inclination is always to reserve gobs of “me time,” because it’s easier than engaging with people who are messy (like me). But I realize that the beauty of life is found in our connection around the table now—a connection that is practice for when we are, one day, gathered as one around the throne.
Singing with the Lord and the Lamb
I love nothing more than a powerful voice that hits every note confidently, leading me to believe every word being sung. What will it be like when that voice is the Lord’s?
In John’s vision, the voice from heaven said, “Look, God’s dwelling is with humanity, and he will live with them. They will be his peoples, and God himself will be with them and will be their God” (Rev. 21:3).
In ancient times, God’s people worshipped Him in His temple. It was the place where His glory lived. When Christ came, He became the temple, in the flesh, walking among His people. We now have the Holy Spirit living and working in our hearts, the new temple where Jesus dwells. We’re being made ready for the day when the Lord and the Lamb will again be physically present with us. Forever. With no more separation.
“The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, because the glory of God illuminates it, and its lamp is the Lamb” (v. 23). On that day, we will be face to face with the God to whom we’ve cried out, expressing our longings, our questions, our laments. No longer will we speak our prayers into the silence, wishing for an audible answer. We will forever be in the presence of the Father, who has brought us to Himself, and the Son, who has given Himself for the joy of making that possible (Heb. 12:2). The Light will sing with us and over us.
We, the bride, will have the best wedding day imaginable, the first wedding for many of us. We will marry the One we were made for, the One whose image we bear. The One who surpasses all glory. We will love Him more than anything we’ve ever loved.
There will be an endless amount to discover and uncover about Him. We’ll never get bored. Think about your most favorite person now, the one whose fascinating stories and interesting sides have no end. In the new heaven and the new earth, that person will be the Lord, and we will be endlessly discovering who He is.
The Bigger Story
Paul told the Corinthians and us that if we are in Christ, we are now a new creation. He called us to live in that newness (2 Cor. 5:17). As we “put on the new self, the one created according to God’s likeness” (Eph. 4:24), we are being transformed into that likeness by the Spirit (2 Cor. 3:18).
Though our bodies and minds are wasting away as we go, our hearts are being renovated, learning to love the things God loves. We press on toward that goal of living in our newness in spirit and action. But what will it look like when our bodies, hearts, and minds are completely renewed once and for all?
I often think about what I can’t see. The crystal blue of the ocean. The majesty of the mountains. The smile of a friend. And yet, I know I’m not alone in my blindness. The apostle Paul said that, for all of us, the glass is blurry just now. We’re all blind in a certain sense. Blinded by our guilt, our pain, and by the fact that we are human, unable to see the future or the heavenly realms. But Paul said there will be a brilliant day when you and I finally see! We will gaze on Jesus’ face, fully captivated by His beauty, “even as [we are] fully known” (1 Cor. 13:12 NIV).
In this final newness, my blindness and yours will be gone. In an instant we will understand that all our sufferings always had infinite purpose. Our new, perfectly loving hearts will replace our misguided ones. My need to people-please and perform will never plague me again. Neither will your sins and struggles plague you. Many of ou
r deepest longings will fade away, and some will be fulfilled in greater ways than we could ever have imagined.
When the Alpha and Omega makes everything new, death, grief, and pain will be no more. On that day, He whose hands formed and renewed creation will wipe every tear from your eyes and mine once and for all (Rev. 21:4–5). As we embrace that newness in our resurrected, perfectly working bodies—with hearts that love the good and beautiful and hands that are eager to do great work—we will hear the echoes of Jesus’ words on the cross in our Father’s final pronouncement: “It is finished!” (Rev. 21:6 NLT; John 19:30).
In the words of renowned speaker Joni Eareckson Tada, “The best we can hope for in this life is a knothole peek at the shining realities ahead. Yet a glimpse is enough. It’s enough to convince our hearts that whatever sufferings and sorrows currently assail us aren’t worthy of comparison to that which waits over the horizon.”5
As we fix our minds on the hook of our song in the dark, “the best is yet to come,” we can sing enthusiastically with the apostle John, “Come, Lord Jesus!” (Rev. 22:20).
Your Song of Hope
During the early days of the coronavirus pandemic, at seven o’clock each night in New York City, many people would go out onto their fire escapes or stick their heads out their windows to cheer for the frontline workers. Some folks would get in their cars and honk their horns. Others brought out their trumpets and saxophones and blew a few celebratory notes. Some banged on pots and pans. And some guy always brought his boom box to blare a song of enthusiasm, which everyone clapped and sang along to. It was the most joyful moment of the day.
There is something about all sorts of folks who don’t know each other cheering for the same thing that makes your heart hopeful. But if this evening rally was a sweet, hopeful moment, imagine what it will be like when you and I—and all the rest of God’s people—sing together with Him in our midst! I cannot wait to sing with you! And I pray that as we’ve journeyed through these songs together and as you’ve heard the voices of these biblical singers and seen how God worked in their lives, your voice has grown stronger.
In our final songwriting venture, I want you to write your hope for the future. Think about what you’re looking forward to being healed of and who you can’t wait to see again. Imagine what it will be like to see Jesus face to face. To gaze on Him or to fall at His feet. To know even as we are fully known. Here are some words to get you started:
There is a king, who left a kingdom,
Sent to die and rise again, our lives to save.
There’ll come a day when our eyes behold Him,
And we will gaze upon the fullness of His grace.
Our taste of heaven has just begun.
Great is this love, with greater still to come.6
Singing God’s Song
As we think about what it will mean to never sing in the dark again, let’s memorize and meditate on these words: “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes. Death will be no more; grief, crying, and pain will be no more, because the previous things have passed away” (Rev. 21:4).
And finally, let’s sing the Lord’s song: “He said to me, ‘It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. I will freely give to the thirsty from the spring of the water of life’” (Rev. 21:6).
I pray that as you’ve brought before Him your own songs, laments, and prayers, you’ve been changed—by His greatness and power and tender love for you. I pray that you and I will keep exploring the songs of Scripture, memorizing them and letting them lead us into worship and move us to sing—in any darkness we face.
Acknowledgments
As I embarked on writing Singing in the Dark, I quickly discovered that authoring chapters in a book is nothing like crafting lyrics for a three-minute song. I have learned much through the process and am so appreciative of those who have patiently guided me on my journey.
My deepest gratitude is to my faithful, long-suffering editor and friend, Rachel Lulich. Thank you for your hours of answering my questions about best practices for book-writing, offering opinions, and, of course, editing and helping me edit multiple rounds of this manuscript. I have no idea how I would have made it to the finish line without your patience and valuable insight. Thank you a thousand times over!
To Joni Eareckson Tada, Christy Nockels, Michael Card, Nancy Guthrie, Kelly Minter, Lisa Harper, Susie Larson, Jeremy Camp, and Michael W. Smith: Thank you so much for your generous written words of support and endorsement. Each of you has meaningfully marked my life with your testimony of God’s goodness and truth.
To those who have generously granted me permission to share parts of their stories in this book—Mom, Emily, John, Octavia, Aunt Carol, Jeremy and the Rescue:Freedom crew, Kori, and Charlynn—I am truly grateful. Your stories have made my story much richer.
To Hillary Manton Lodge: Thank you for your valuable insight as an author, and for generously giving your time to help me think through titles and big ideas.
I am also so grateful to the team at David C Cook, who took a manuscript and turned it into a book. Each of you has been marvelous to work with, and I so appreciate your hard work and dedication!
To Susan McPherson: Thank you for graciously championing this project (and me) from our first conversation. Your kindness and encouragement have made this process a delightful experience.
To Stephanie Bennett, who spearheaded my DCC team: I have so appreciated your joyful positivity along the way.
To Jeff Gerke, who patiently and generously provided content editing for the manuscript: I am so thankful for your insights and to have had the opportunity to work with you.
To Kayla Fenstermaker: Thank you for your diligence and for providing brilliant copyediting.
To Judy Gillispie: Thank you for being a delightful light throughout this book-creating process.
I also must thank the many individuals who have supported me, not only with this book, but in life.
To Andy Osenga: I so appreciate your friendship, your encouragement, and your effort to connect all the dots to bring this project to fruition.
To David McCollum: Thank you so much for blessing me with your kind and generous spirit, your patience, your loyalty, and your endless talents as manager, designer, sometimes-photographer, and the rest too numerous to mention here. I am grateful beyond words.
To Grace Kornegay: Thank you so much for everything you do to help my world run smoothly. I so appreciate your patience and generous spirit.
To Tyrus Morgan: You, Casey, and the kids are such a magnificent blessing in my life! Thank you for being a wonderful cowriter, producer, and friend, and for graciously allowing me to share some of our lyrics in the pages of this book.
To my seminary professors and cohort: What an unbelievable gift it has been to study with and learn from each of you! My experience of Christ has been deepened and enriched by your teaching, insights, and encouragement.
To Bob Lackey and the Imagine One Team: Thank you for blessing me with your friendship, encouragement, and support! It is a true privilege to know you!
To my fabulous family: I love you all and am so appreciative of your prayers, encouragement, support, and of how you taught me to love Scripture.
To my beautiful friends: Thank you for speaking truth to me and loving me well. I am truly blessed by each and every one of you in more ways than you know!
To the Lord who gives us the strength, courage, and means to sing in every darkness, and the songs with which to do it. How dark, empty, and meaningless life would be without Your perfect, radiant, life-altering light!
Notes
Introduction
1. Frances J. Crosby, “Blessed Assurance,” 1873, public domain.
Chapter 1: A Song of Undivided Praise
1. For further insights on the story of Leah, see Derek Kidner, Genesis, Tyndale Old Testament Commentaries (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity, 1967), 170–73, and Timothy J. Keller, “The Girl Nobody Wanted” (sermon, Redeemer Pr
esbyterian Church, New York City, October 11, 1998).
2. Andrew Murray, The Believer’s Daily Renewal (Bloomington, MN: Bethany House, 1981), 23.
3. Ginny Owens and Andrew Osenga, “You Alone,” Sing Hope in the Darkness, Integrity Music, 2021.
Chapter 2: A Song for the Plodding Path
1. Daniel I. Block, Deuteronomy, The NIV Application Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2012), 748.
2. Joni Eareckson Tada and Steve Estes, A Step Further: Growing Closer to God through Hurt and Hardship (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2001), 137.
3. Eleanor Henrietta Hull and Mary Elizabeth Byrne, “Be Thou My Vision,” 1927, public domain, arrangement by Ginny Owens and Tyrus Morgan, Sing Hope in the Darkness, Integrity Music, 2021.
Chapter 3: A Song of Victory
1. See D. A. Carson, Praying with Paul: A Call for Spiritual Reformation, 2nd ed. (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2014), 33–44.
2. K. Lawson Younger Jr., Judges and Ruth, The NIV Application Commentary (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2002), 151–52.
3. Younger, Judges and Ruth, 153.
4. Younger, Judges and Ruth, 154.
5. Ginny Owens, I Know a Secret, ChickPower Music, 2014.
6. Ginny Owens and Tyrus Morgan, “Inheritance,” Sing Hope in the Darkness, Intergrity Music, 2021.
Chapter 4: A Song of Strength