the walker | Notion

listen as you read, or later when you’re ready.

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https://youtu.be/bOEarfH0KA0?si=Ls7Fj6QVA7frIEI3

It was February of last year. Our nanny had suddenly given notice. It had already been a year of so much turnover, along with sleep struggles — insomnia for me, early mornings for Gil. I was so, so tired. Exhausted in every way: mentally, physically, spiritually.

The truth is, parenthood has often made me feel this way. Like there’s no way out, no solution. The over-stimulation and exhaustion just keeps going, chipping away at my soul.

That morning, an email landed in my inbox from a project manager at work. I work at a record label, and she was sharing the final edit of a new music video for one of my favorite artists on our roster. I clicked play while juggling other tasks, not knowing what was about to happen.

I was hooked in the first verse:

When your heart rips out your chest When your voice is tremblin' Lift your head to the blood-red moon Hold your pain as you breathe

I thought of the pain of that moment — of feeling trapped, of seeing only years ahead of sacrifice and exhaustion. The lyric called me to do the simple thing first: feel the pain, and breathe.

Then the song moved on, and I knew: this was the Spirit of God speaking. My ordinary workday suddenly became holy ground.

Bring your body close to me

Walk on with your burden Walk on with your burden (I will walk with you)

I gasped out loud when the other voices come in: “I will walk with you.” It felt like the Trinity — Father, Son, and Spirit — seeing me, surrounding me, reminding me they walk with me.

The next verse opened the floodgates of my weeping, right there at my desk:

Dive into me, like some Great Lake Move in me, like a ritual Bathe in the light of the blood-red moon Raise a song in harmony

It was one of those undeniable, life-changing moments when the voice of God is so confirmed in you that it can’t be explained away. Only He could do this — that SYML, an artist who doesn’t know God, would write of walking alongside someone who’s carrying a burden, inviting them to dive into his presence like a great lake. This was already the language of my prayer life. Before this song, I had seen God as a Great Lake. And now here He was, calling me to dive in.

Abiding. Moving with Him in underwater ritual. Learning a new song in harmony with His Spirit.

Underwater, for me, speaks of weightlessness — no burdens, sensory calm, being completely surrounded. My soul was desperate for that.

And then the refrain returned:

Walk on in the middle of a dark day fighting through hell (I will walk with you) Walk on at the edge of the world where you find yourself (I will walk with you)

Walk on with your burden, walk on with your burden (I will walk with you) Walk on with your burden And I will walk with you

He is walking with me. Step by step, breath by breath. Closer than the oxygen in my cells.

The song ends in peace. Because that’s what the message of His presence with us brings: we are not alone, we can have shalom.