Yesterday, I spent a good amount of time writing down the words to a spiritual familiar to most Christians and many non-Christians–just by listening again and again to it, though my eyes serve better than my ears in such matters. What an unbelievable experience, I’ll tell you. The version came from St. Augustine Choir, Leon C. Roberts, conductor, and I personally find what he did with that song, well, spiritual. I had just purchased the CD, by the way, and thought writing about one of the songs appropriate for January when we celebrate the contributions of African Americans in our country.

Perhaps it is a given that any song about light and strength might find its way into the collection of one’s personal music. But, before I share the lyrics of the song, on this month of January in which we celebrate the contributions of Martin Luther King, Jr., and watch on January 20th with a sacred incredulity yet another page of American history turn with the inauguration of President-elect Barack Obama, an African American…before that, I want to travel the unlevel dirt roads to swamplands of another place and time when a slave braved swamp waters rather than remain in other treacherous waters of slavery and degradation.
Her name, Harriet Jacobs, 22 years old. The time, 1835. The place, one of the Carolinas.
Leaving the swamp behind her, nothing felt better than her grandmother’s storeroom, a garrett, a small crawl space over that storeroom.

For seven years relatives fed and aided her through the extremes of summer heat and the bitter cold of winter, but she never dare leave the garret, for a few feet below often stood her master, a Mr. Flint, when he was not out searching for her.
Day fell into day, night into night. Then one day, Harriet hit her head on an object, surprisingly a gimlet, a tool for boring holes.

Finding the correct side of the garret, the one facing the street, that night she bore three small spaces and a few even smaller spaces into the wood. From that point on, she could watch her children below from the garret.
This truly was her greatest consolation, her greatest light, her greatest strength during those seven years, for Harriet Jacobs lived long in the dim light, trusting always in a sure Light that gave her nothing to fear so that one day she would descend from that garret into the bright light of freedom.
If you want to read more of this true account, you may in Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl.
How appropriate now in January and in consideration of what was and what is to come to hear from “Songs of Faith” from “Lead Me, Guide Me,” The African America Catholic Hymnal words of light and strength:
The Lord Is My Light
Verse
The Lord is my light and my salvation,
The Lord is my light and my salvation,
The Lord is my light and my salvation,
Whom should I fear?
Refrain
Whom shall I fear?
Whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the strength of my life,
Whom should I fear?
Verse
In times of trouble, He shall find me,
In times of trouble, He shall find me,
In times of trouble, He shall find me.
Whom shall I fear?
Refrain
Whom shall I fear?
Whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the strength of my life,
Whom shall I fear?
Verse
Wait on the Lord, and He’ll prove worthy,
Wait on the Lord, and He’ll prove worthy,
Wait on the Lord, and He’ll prove worthy,
He shall strengthen my soul.
Refrain
Whom shall I fear?
Whom whom whom whom whom whom whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the strength of my life,
Whom whom whom whom whom whom–in the time of trouble–
Whom–wait on the Lord–whom whom whom whom shall I fear?
Copyright@p 1993 GIA Publications, Inc.
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