Keep Going
Once upon a time, let’s say in 2020, I was moved to see and hear the “Keep Going” song by Abigail and Shaun Bengson. Maybe you’ve seen it. If not. Stop reading this right now and go watch it.
https://youtu.be/Cs-ju_L9pEQ
I am not overstating it when I say that I watched that video at least once a day for months. Months. First, I really love Abigail’s hair. Superficial beginning but I gotta be honest. But what I really love is the realtionality in that song. I wanted to hang out with them - AND Shaun’s parents. I wanted them to sing with me, a song of hope. A Keep Going Song.
Just like all prophetic songs, this one has worn a bit as we’re entering another season of death and despair. For me, COVID has become the container that has held the death of a loved one, physical health trauma - mine and others. It has been the casing for brokenness in the world and brokenness in my heart. It has held its share of joy and love too - a wedding, a birthday or more, a gazing at the sunset.
I guess I felt like I could really keep going in October 2020. Like I was super tired - but each time I looked into Abigail’s eyes I believed. I believed that, even though I wasn’t right when she was asking, all right OR ok, I maybe could be. I believed that our hearts WERE breaking open I believed we WERE imagining something new for our kids. I believed we could keep going. Just like that. The keep going song.
With apologies to the Bengsons - who are amazing artists and you should stop reading this and find all their beauty-beauty and pain-beauty online immediately (come back, though). Ok, trying that again: with apologies, I am actually finding this quote a bit more to my life-ing:
“If you’re going through hell, keep going.” Winston Churchill
What I want to say is: I kept going. And kept going. And kept going. And now I find myself in hell.
I see you, too.
I don’t believe in hell. I don’t believe in some underworld fiery place where a devil waits for us to die so that he can torture us for all eternity. (First of all, it’s been done - thanks “The Good Place”). But mostly, it is incongruous to think that the creative force of the universe is just waiting around for us to mess up that that we can get moved over, like a bead on an abacus, from heaven to hell. Counting us, one by one into eternal damnation and destruction. Waiting for us to mess up so that we can add weight to whatever side the hell side would be. (I’m going to say left because I heard someone shouting at me the other day that the left are going to hell….)
But, with all that wrapped up in a great cloud of “who can really know?” unknowing, here is what I do know:
I DO find myself wanting to keep going. Right now, I want to keep going straight to a low-key but delicious dinner where, sitting with the Bengsons and the cast from The Good Place, I can look all around and see that we’ve all kept going. We’ve all shown grace and learned how to bake bread. We’ve all worn masks and got vaccinated. We’ve all sung a song to any one of a number of unsung heroes.
We are all (eating with) and walking each other home.
Which, I can pretty much promise you, won’t be hell.
From where I sit, today, hell is other people. But, from where I’m pretty sure I’ll be sitting tomorrow, all of us will be sitting around some big table and we will begin grace with: you are welcome into our home - we’re in Dayton Ohio. Yes, you guessed it, in Shaun’s parent’s house.
It is, after all, a keep going song- year x 2.