Stainless Steel

Stainless-Steel-Kitchen-2  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Here we go. On the inside of my brand new "Sit With Me" CD are some liner notes. On them is an invitation to check out my blog for the stories and experiences behind the songs. I'm not sure if that was a good idea or a bad one. I, for one, love when I get to read about the meaning behind a song or anything the songwriter has to say about it. Second, a bunch of people have asked me to do this.

The downside is that it's (a) one more way to be vulnerable and (b) it maybe steers the interpretation toward the songwriter's bent when it could be applied to your own life in a different, or maybe even greater way.

Depending on how risky you are, keep reading. ;)

I decided to start with "Stainless Steel". Picking which tune to start with feels tricky in and of itself. I've chosen this one because I feel like it's one of the most honest and raw tunes. It seems to fit my blog, I suppose.

I don't want to point any fingers at anyone with this tune; we all have our sh  crap. At the same time, this is crap that has particularly hurt over the last few years. Simply put, we've seen people walk out on their families in various ways. It's devastating for all involved - the bystanders, the extended families, the spouses, and, mostly, I believe, the children. It's heartbreaking really.

You'll hear plenty of house/kitchen references in this song - stainless steel, island, home, handprints of children, painted doors, polished floors, etc. That's because I felt most hit with this crap while standing in the heart of someone's home. I know from walking alongside plenty of friends in this season of life, that something new and shiny looks enticing. It looks invincible. It looks independent. In truth, it seems that the stainless appeal wears down; that new place isn't independent, but lonely; it is a house of cards; and no matter how much you paint and polish, there are knicks that just won't buff out of the story.

These stories bring me to my knees - desperate to pray and weak with sadness.

"You know that this ain't home, this ain't home... this stainless steel."

May you know your home. May you choose your home.