I have always loved music. It has soothed my wounded soul many a time. When I was in high school, I would often pound out pieces from Beethoven: Moonlight Sonata, Für Elise, Sonata in G. They weren't music. They were therapy--and it worked, for the most part.
In the years since, I've taken to playing LDS Hymns as a method of therapy. Many of them are beautiful pieces on their own without the words. Some you may recognize from your own hymnbooks.
The one I've chosen today is one of my all-time favorites, "A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief," written by James Montgomery. (There is a "Play" button in the upper left-hand corner if you want to hear it.) This one, in particular, plays like an instrumental piece even though the words themselves are as a story. My favorite verses are the last three, most especially the last one (verse seven):
Stripped, wounded, beaten nigh to death,
I found him by the highway side.
I roused his pulse, brought back his breath,
Revived his spirit, and supplied
Wine, oil, refreshment—he was healed.
I had myself a wound concealed,
But from that hour forgot the smart,
And peace bound up my broken heart.
In pris’n I saw him next, condemned
To meet a traitor’s doom at morn.
The tide of lying tongues I stemmed,
And honored him ’mid shame and scorn.
My friendship’s utmost zeal to try,
He asked if I for him would die.
The flesh was weak; my blood ran chill,
But my free spirit cried, “I will!”
Then in a moment to my view
The stranger started from disguise.
The tokens in His hands I knew;
The Savior stood before mine eyes.
He spake, and my poor name He named,
“Of Me thou hast not been ashamed.
These deeds shall thy memorial be;
Fear not, thou didst them unto Me."
I get goosebumps every time I sing or even play this hymn. I didn't know until today, though, that this is not an LDS hymn, even though it was a favorite of Joseph Smith, sung the day he died in an effort to soothe his soul.
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