I think about how I used to feel when I sang the song as a kid. Sometimes I’d sense a presence inside me rising, lifting, straining, as if my soul were reaching up toward heaven. I no longer believe in the words. I no longer trust in a God who takes care of us. I can’t imagine anyone does. My grandma’s favorite song might still be beautiful, but it has no meaning anymore. Not after everything that’s happened. Or maybe… Maybe now it means even more. A hymn of faith at the end of the world.
