Our guest blogger this month is Janice Kapp Perry, a renowned and prolific composer. Having produced more than 50 albums of original music, numerous sacred cantatas, several full-length musicals, her music is known world-wide throughout the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS).
Introduction
As writers and composers in the Church we most often try to write about the ideal - the conditions we are striving for in our lives, rather than any state of perfection we have already attained. Even as we write we are painfully aware of our own shortcomings and make resolutions to try even harder to become what we are writing about.
It's not a bad thing to write about the ideal. In fact, a church leader recently said that is exactly what we should do because it gives us something to shoot for. Nevertheless, I always appreciate the lesson leader who is candid about the fact that we can be much less than perfect and still be on the path to eventually reaching those ideals. When I was writing "I'm Trying to Be Like Jesus" and considered what all that phrase implies, I wondered why I so often fell short of the ideal. Then I reminded myself to focus on the word "trying" and that made the song feel more honest to me, because we can all do that. But every now and then I write a song that comes back to bite me. All I can say is that I mean the words and believe them when I write them. I just find it hard to consistently live them when caught up in the daily whirlwind of life.
Do Not Run Faster Than You Have Strength
As a new ward Relief Society president in 1988, I attended a regional training meeting conducted by Barbara W. Winder, General President of the Relief Society. For three hours we were masterfully instructed on how to improve our Relief Society service. Each hour I felt more overwhelmed at the thought of implementing so many new ideas.
I felt great relief at the conclusion of the final session, when Sister Winder put things into perspective by suggesting we choose just one or two of the suggestions to work on, and, above all, "Do not run faster than you have strength." Of all the things I learned at the conference I clung most to that comforting advice from the scriptures. I pondered it for a few days, trying to identify why it meant so much to me, and then composed a song to help me, and perhaps others, remember this principle. We later recorded the song on an album and it came back to haunt me on a particularly busy day. I had spent three hours on a Tuesday morning overseeing homemaking meeting in our Provo ward. I knew my mother was ill and felt that I should be with her. My little granddaughter Sarah had burned her hands badly, and I wanted to go and check on her. My nephew Kyle had arrived from Alaska, and I had promised to help him complete his missionary shopping that afternoon before he entered the MTC [Missionary Training Center] the next day. I was also hosting an open house for him that evening at our home for all the Utah relatives. These were all good things, but I was going in so many directions I wasn't really doing justice to anything!
An hour before the open house, I realized I had forgotten something important that I needed for the refreshments, so I hopped into the car, switched on the radio (which was set on the LDS music station) and heard my song. As the singer reminded me, "Do not run faster than you have strength," I said (to the voice on the radio) in a very firm voice, "That's easy for you to say!"
I thought that I could do it all
Complete each task, accept each call
I never felt my work was done
Until I had pleased everyone
I told myself I must be strong
Be there for all to lean upon
But in the end I came to see
That's more than God requires of me.
He has said:
Do not run faster than you have strength
If you grow weary, what have you gained?
You will have wisdom and strength enough
If first you remember to fill your own cup.
I thought of all I should become
Compared myself to everyone
I never stopped to keep the score
But always felt I should do more
I somehow thought I should become
Everything to everyone
But in the end I came to see
That's more than God requires of me.
He tells me:
Do not run faster than you have strength
If you grow weary, what have you gained?
You will have wisdom and strength enough
If first you remember to fill your own cup
Comforting words of the Master
Do not run faster than you have strength.
Some time after the incident described above, I was in my doctor's office telling him how tired and rundown I had felt lately, and he said, "Well I recommend to my patients who are in your situation - that they get a copy of your song 'Do Not Run Faster.' Maybe you should give it a listen sometime!" It is so important to concern ourselves with only the few things that really matter, do them the best we can, and have a measure of peace in our lives. Now, if only I can remember that next week.
Love is Spoken Here
When I was writing lyrics for this song I thought back on the home I had grown up in, and I decided to write about two particular things that gave me a feeling of peace and security in that home - hearing my mother's prayers and feeling the power of my father's priesthood. I wrote one verse about each subject which could be sung separately and then sung together over a common harmonic structure.
The song won a church music context, was published in the Ensign magazine, and was sung by the Mormon Tabernacle Choir during my tenure with the choir. A few years ago it even became the title song for an album recorded by the Tabernacle Choir. You might say it became a signature song for me. But I discovered that it was easier to write this song than it was to always live its precepts! Once more one of my songs came back to haunt me.
Doug and I had been tending our three little granddaughters who were four, three, and one year old for eleven days while their parents enjoyed a trip to Europe. They were such sweet little girls, but I was not used to such a routine and grew more and more tired each day. Bedtime was especially challenging.
On the evening before their parents returned, I had completed the bedtime routine their parents had outlined for us, and had tucked the two older girls - Jessica and Rachel - into bed, saying, "Grandma is very tired, and I need you to go right to sleep while I get the baby (Melissa) to bed." A little later as I was giving Melissa her bottle, I heard everything break loose in the older girls' bedroom - pillow fighting, bouncing on the bed, and giggling. I was determined to get the baby to sleep before dealing with this situation, and my feelings were rising during this time.
Finally I marched emphatically into their room to confront the girls, saying very firmly: "Jessie and Rachel, I want you to lie down and pull the covers up to your chin, and I am going to watch you go to sleep!"
Never having heard this tone of voice from their grandmother, they dove under the covers and didn't move a muscle. Then I heard Rachel's tiny voice from the dimly lit room saying, "Grandma, will you sing us one of your Primary songs?" I was in no mood to do so but finally said in my same firm voice:
"All right. I'll sing one song, but only one song - don't ask for two. Which one do you want?" After a slight hesitation, the tiny voice whispered, "Love is Spoken Here." Feeling like the worst hypocrite who had ever written a song, I repented quickly, sang the song with newly-felt love for my sweet little granddaughters, and watched them go to sleep.
I see my mother kneeling
With our family each day
I hear the words she whispers
As she bows her head to pray
Her plea to the Father
Quiets all my fears
And I am thankful
Love is spoken here
Mine is a home where ev'ry hour
Is filled with the strength of priesthood pow'r
With father and mother leading the way
Teaching me how to trust and obey
And the things they teach are crystal clear
For love is spoken here
I can often feel the Savior near
When love is spoken here
Although I do sometimes fall short of living up to the ideals I write about, singing the songs usually serves to get me back on track and to help me see more clearly where I need to improve. Other people's music has done that for me throughout my life and I hope mine will do that for others in return. When I write, I pray for inspiration and for insights that will be meaningful to those who hear my songs. If I am one of the people taught by my lyrics, I consider it a tender mercy.
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