If you’ve gone to a non-denominational church in recent history, you’ve likely heard of Jason Gray, or at the very least you’ve heard of his music; he is the artist responsible for “Remind Me Who I Am” and many other popular worship songs.
I don’t keep up with Christian music nearly as much as most people I know, so I hadn’t actually heard of Jason until this past spring when I heard him perform live at a local venue. After doing his traditional “peppy worship set,” he stopped to do an acoustic set that was a little more somber in tone. (As he said, “because everyone goes to Christian concerts to be depressed, right?”)
There was a significant amount of the concert after he performed “Not Right Now,” but for me it may as well have stopped right then and there.
He had sung my thoughts and spoke the language it so often seems only I understand. Nothing else mattered.
Jason has posted the story behind the song on YouTube, which is a truly beautiful story of how I think we all wish other people would treat us during times of grief. “It’s best to just be present, and to be kind, and maybe to be quiet,” he says.
I like the version of the song that’s posted on YouTube a little better than the version on his album because it is just that: quiet. It’s not a production, it’s not a show. It’s a cry from the heart and a true metaphor of every grieving person’s struggle.
It’s an important song for me as a Christ follower because it’s a reminder that Jesus is well acquainted with grieving and understands everything I’ve struggled with. More importantly, he wants me to take time to grieve, and there is open permission to not be okay. Jesus doesn’t spout off platitudes in an effort to put a band-aid on a person’s pain. Jesus WEPT.
Even if you aren’t religious, I still think it’s an important piece of music for anyone who has suffered a loss. So here’s what I want you to do:
Find a time and a place where you can sit in the quiet, uninterrupted. Hit play. Read over the lyrics. (seen below.)
Then do whatever you need to do. Take some time to cry. Journal about what you’re feeling. Think about your loved one(s). Order a pizza and eat the whole thing yourself. Tape the lyrics to your bathroom mirror. Get a tattoo. Whatever you need, give yourself some grace and allow yourself to do it and to feel it.
I hope it means as much to you as it does to me.
……….
You could see the smoke from a mile away, trouble always draws a crowd
They want to tell me that it’ll be okay, but that’s not what I need right now
Not while my house is burning down.
I know someday, I know somehow, I’ll be okay but not right now.
Not right now.
Tell me if the hope that you know is true
Ever feels like a lie even from a friend
When the words are salt in an open wound and they just can’t seem to understand
That you haven’t even stopped the bleeding yet.
I know someday, I know somehow, I’ll be okay but not right now.
No not right now.
Don’t tell me when I’m grieving that this happened for a reason.
Maybe one day we’ll talk about the dreams that had to die for new ones to come alive
But not right now.
While I wait for the smoke to clear, you don’t even have to speak.
Just sit with me in the ashes here and together we can pray for peace
To the one acquainted with our grief.
I know someday, I know somehow, I’ll be okay but not right now.
Not right now, no not right now.
Jordan has lost her father, grandfather, mentor and friend in the past five years. Dealing with sequential losses has been difficult, but her faith in God and an abundance of conversations over coffee have helped her push through. She has always considered herself a writer, and she currently studies English and Journalism at Northern Illinois University. In her spare time she enjoys serving at her church, wedding planning and cuddling with her cat.