During the past several days, I've been a part of a mini-Christmas tour with the Diplomats and the Mark Trammell Trio. While all of the venues have been churches, the format for each performance has been the normal concert style, with the first half all Southern Gospel and the second, all Christmas music. Plans for a 2008 tour are already in the works.
Before moving on, let me say a word or two about the Diplomats. Though this is not a new group, they are just now beginning to get national attention. If you were to try to describe this Carrollton, Ga., group, your effort would have to include references to the Happy Goodmans and maybe a little of the Kingsmen of the 1970s-early 1980s (in other words, they have that same gusty, nail-it-to-the-wall style that can absolutely turn a crowd upside down). Mix in friendly personalities, good talent (both vocally and instrumentally) and you can see that this group has potential for even better days in Southern Gospel. Check 'em out if they are in your area.
And, not to be left out, the Mark Trammell Trio continues their growth. Mark's rendition of "O Holy Night" rivals that of Gerald Wolfe's (unoffically regarded as the best version of that in the biz); Eric Phillips and Dustin Sweatman continue to gel with Mark as a singing unit; and the group's stage presentation has gone up another notch or two in recent months.
On the second night of the tour, we were in a Jacksonville, Ala., church and even though the church was large, the pulpit area was fairly small. By the time all the sound equipment was in place, there was just enough room for the singers. Because of this, I committed one of the big "no-no's" of emceeing: I let myself be trapped with no way to get off stage while the groups were coming on. Either I'd have to walk directly in front of the group, sneak out behind them during the song or just wait it out, trying to go unnoticed in corner of the choir loft. I elected for the latter.
The Diplomats were up first. They were three or four songs into their set when I noticed something in the eyes of a few of the people in the congregation. I know that look very well, as I've seen it reflected in a mirror: Depression.
According to what I've read on the subject, the holiday season is a prime time for many people to experience depression. I won't go into the reasoning, but I can tell you I've lived it - and if you'll give me just a second, I'll tell you of something that helped me beat it.
As I've noted before, I'm not a musically-inclined person. But I am guilty of singing in the shower or over a kitchen sink full of dishes. I've gotten my fair share of odd looks when the driver of the car next to me sees me trying to hit George Younce notes while sitting at the traffic light. I've driven my family crazy with off-key singing and more than once, I've seen our dog, Hercules, bury his head in the sofa cushions. Yes, I take that line of "make a joyful noise" very seriously.
But when depression set in, there were no notes...no jumbled words as I'd unintentionally rewrite the latest radio hit...not once did I get stuck on one line as I'd try to protect my wife's ears by humming instead of singing...nothing.
It all stopped.
It was a bleak time for me. I'll admit that I didn't do the right thing and talk to a trained professional. But I did bury myself in what on-line information I could find. I latched onto Scriptures like Psalm 30:5, Isaiah 41:10, and many others. And while I like to feel that my faith is great, I felt as though I had washed up on a deserted island.
But then something began happening... I started getting telephone calls and e-mails out of the blue, as people would just call to say "Hey, you're on my mind today... Just said a little prayer for you..." And I'm not talking about one here, one there. Instead I'm talking several in a row, in the span of just a few short hours...Roger Bennett, while in a Houston hospital bed, with miles of IV tubes connected to him sent me several passages of Scripture he "felt" I needed to read. Libbi Stuffle, Michael Booth, Jonathan Wilburn, Karen Peck Gooch, and Tim Lovelace were just a few of those who felt impressed to rally around me. Nothing elaborate at all - just letting me know things, somehow, someway, were going to be OK. Even ol' Jerry Kirksey kept a close check on me - although that might have been driven by the fear he was going to have to put the entire magazine together by himself.
Mark Trammell called, too. It was Mark who told me a story about something that had happened to him years ago, when he was going through a rough time of his own. As he was talking, he said "sometimes you just have to sing" and though he kept on talking, my brain wrapped around that one phrase. Still to this day, I don't remember what he said next.
Like someone hitting rewind, I recalled how singing - awful as it might have been - just a few bars of a song sparked a little joy in my soul and heart. Singing a few words of "Victory of Jesus" or "What A Friend We Have In Jesus" just a few months ago kept darkness at bay.
I also immediately realized that I had not uttered one song during the whole time I was wallowing in despair.
I doubt that you'll find it in any textbook, but that phrase was like medicine for me. I can't describe it, but once I made myself sing out again, light began filling my life again. It wasn't immediate, but I could tell the difference. I'm sure that a professional could give me all the "because of's," "why's," and "how's," but it was that spark in Mark's phrase that began a turn around for me. Of course, I'll just sum it up with one word: God.
If you are someone who experiences depression, I urge you to seek professional help. It's a serious condition that can turn deadly if not treated. A Christian counselor is a great place to start. Your pastor, youth director or doctor can give you great recommendations for direction.
But don't be afraid to seek solace in songs like I've mentioned, too.
Sometimes you just have to sing.
