Carry Me Through – By Lindsay Houchen

_{One of the most caring, loving, talented and beautiful friend, Lindsay, has graciously agreed to do a “Guest Blog”. Please continue on to see what obedience can produce, beauty out of ashes. Also, I am pushing her way out of her comfort zone by posting the actual song. I just feel it can help someone. It needs to be heard.}

Have you ever tried to fake a yawn? To “will” yourself to yawn just to prove how tired you are? I have. It doesn’t work. Try it — right now. You’ll see what I mean.

There’s a distinct quality to a real yawn. It overtakes your whole face with this dramatic, involuntary gasp for air. You can’t force it. And you certainly can’t fake it.

I think authenticity is a bit like that. You can’t pretend to be real. You either are, or you aren’t. The moment you try to “be authentic,” you’ve lost its essence. 

Tiffany is the epitome of what it means to be authentic. That’s one of the reasons I love being around her. She doesn’t perform or pretend. She just is — fully, unapologetically herself. And in her presence, I feel permission to be myself too. What a gift she is.

The first time I saw her after Jeb passed away, I wasn’t sure what to expect. How does one handle losing the love of their life, after all?

After wading through the buzz of friends and family in her living room and a quick tour of her garden, we sat on her back porch, face to face.  And once again, I found myself in awe of her authenticity. She wasn’t hiding — and I didn’t want her to. I just wanted to be with her, to see her, to sit in the full spectrum of what she was feeling. She let me.

If you know Tiffany, you know the stories she’s lived to tell. You also know how deeply rooted her faith in God is. I asked her, gently, “How are you seeing God in all of this?”

She said, “I’m not mad at Him. I know He has a bigger plan. I do think it’s a stupid one, though.”

We laughed through the tears. Honest. Raw. Real. 

A few weeks later, she posted a blog about grief — about what the experience has been like for her, what fears have accompanied it, and how unmoored she feels. Her words were disorienting, gutting, and unfiltered. Once again: so real.

Two of my great loves are words and music. I’ve often said that music has felt like a parent to me — teaching me how to articulate what I feel, especially when words alone fall short.  When I hear a song that expresses something I couldn’t before, it’s as if something inside me gets healed.

Sometimes, that healing comes through writing a song. I’ll feel this sudden pull — a longing to say something that can only be communicated through music. It feels like God is inviting me to create something with Him. 

A few nights ago, I had one of those moments. I woke up at 2:30 A.M. and couldn’t go back to sleep. I was carrying the weight of Tiffany’s grief — and the grief of so many others who loved Jeb. I grabbed my guitar, went upstairs with my journal, and started re-reading the words Tiffany had written. I tried to climb into her story, just for a little while.

By 5:30 A.M., I had a song — lyrics, melody, and a subtle nod to Cat Stevens, whose words hang on her living room wall.

I sent her a rough recording that morning. I hoped that if nothing else, it might help her feel just a little less alone.

Tiffany’s grief — shared with such honesty — gives courage to the rest of us. It reminds us that being fully alive means being open to the whole spectrum: devastation and joy, heartbreak and gratitude, doubt and faith.

You can’t fake a yawn. But you can catch one.

And I hope more of us catch the kind of Tiffany-esque authenticity that shows us what it means to live with our hearts wide open — even in the hardest places.

Because the truth, in all its messy, complex, breathtaking fullness, is what sets us free.

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When I wrote this song, I was trying to climb into Tiffany’s story — not to explain it, not to fix it, but to hold space for it. These are the words that I wrestled out, inspired by hers. I offer them here with love, in honor of her courage and her grief.

Carry Me Through

Grief
Give me what you got
You’ve taken me to hell
and I know you’re not gonna stop

Waves
They keep crashing down
sometimes I think I’ll catch my breath
Sometimes I think I’ll drown

Love
I know you’re here
I feel you in the darkest hour
when I’m paralyzed by fear

Joy
I feel you, too
You’re not what I remember
but you’re pushing your way through

There’s no rhyme here
There’s no reason
But you’ve been faithful, God
Through every season
So I will trust in you
to carry me through
to carry me through

Dreams
Where do they go
When all the dreams we had
found their roots inside our home

Grit
Yeah it got me far
But it doesn’t offer salve
for a soul that’s torn apart

God
I know you’re good
I know I’ll never understand
but I really wish I could

There’s no rhyme here
There’s no reason, but
as long as my heart
keeps on beating
I will trust in you
to carry me through
to carry me through

Oohh baby baby it’s a wild world
I’ll always be missing you
Oohh baby baby it’s a wild world
I’ll always be missing you

…carry me through.