Description
Grief, it turns out, isn't a storm – it's more like the wind that roams wherever it pleases. First it knocks you down, then suddenly it teaches you to breathe more evenly. Here, you don't cry into a pillow - you plant a garden from memory, water it with gratitude, and wait for something warm to grow from the coldest place within. Pain isn't hidden; it's transformed into music, into light, into a quiet "thank you" to those who are no longer with us. And it seems that loss doesn't steal love - it simply makes it eternal, in every breath, in every note, in the words: "Bless the Lord, O my soul."
Lyrics and translation
Original
Grief is such a windy road.
You can try to keep it steady, but it moves when it gets ready.
They say it's love without a home.
'Cause it hurts to feel the distance, to speak of you in past tense.
I could let my heart grow bitter and cold.
But I will bless the Lord, oh my soul.
Oh, what a miracle.
Where I used to grow resentment is a garden of redemption.
And now I'm living off the seeds you've sown.
And this fruit will never wither.
Your legacy forever etched in stone.
Yeah, it's in my bones.
I will bless the Lord, oh my soul.
Oh my soul. Ooh.
I bless the
Lord, oh my soul. Ooh.
I will bless the Lord, oh my soul.
Yeah. Bless the Lord, oh my soul.
Oh. I will bless the Lord, bless the Lord.
When I'm on my face, on my lowest day, and I start to question.
When it's time to lay flowers on the grave, I'm still gon' bless Him.
Because amazing grace came and made a way for the lost and wretched.
So when I'm old and gray, past my golden days, I'm still gon' bless the Son of suffering, Lord of hosts.
I know you'll welcome me, my Father, with the sound of joy and laughter.
My grieving heart is filled with hope.
For the day we're back together, with a song we'll sing forever. This
I know, it won't get old.
Singing, "Bless the Lord, oh my soul. "
And we'll take a stroll on the streets of gold.
Singing, "Bless the Lord, oh my soul. "