Some days I miss Mark Heard more than others.

Today is one of those days...

He's been gone for, what, thirteen years? My goodness. What those years might have produced. God works in myseterious ways, but I still mourn the loss of someone who's words were the soundtrack of my college years, and who's words still create a backdrop for much of what I feel but can't quite express.

Talking in Circles

I paint a self-portrait poorly
But I'll sell it to you pretty cheap
I'll gather up all my tears and pour them at your feet
If camaraderie melts like a crayon
Then indifference spreads like a rash
One minute and all your dreams
Can turn themselves to trash

And I go talking in circles
Wind my words around you
I go talking in circles
Spinning like winter wheels
Reeling like a drunken fool

I could swear that we're swimming in the workweek
Deep divers to treasureless wrecks
Throwing punches at hammerhead sharks
That's breathing down our necks
Let's go to the movies or something
Before time gets the best of us both
And we resemble those bitter old souls
We swore we'd never become

And I go talking in circles
Wind my words around you
I go talking in circles
Spinning like winter wheels
Reeling like a drunken fool

There was something you said in the kitchen
Not much but there was something in your voice
And I was thinking that we could stand to get out a little more
Knee-deep in this town like a tar pit
Work harder and deeper you go
Lie in wait for some genius to come excavate our bones

And I go talking in circles
Wind my words around you
I go talking in circles
Spinning like winter wheels
Reeling like a drunken fool

Written by Mark Heard © 1991 Ideola Music/ASCAP

Linford Detweiler, writing to fans of Over the Rhine about the death of the child of a friend of Karin's, ends most every line of his letter with, "Make sure the people you love know they are loved."

When I think about the lyrics Mark Heard wrote in the last three years of his life, it seems he almost knew what was waiting for him: "Let's go to the movies or something, before time gets the best of us both and we resemble those bitter old souls we swore we'd never become." Making sure, in other words, to let the people he loved know they were loved.

Work is wonderful, and all, but we moderns have such a hard time not allowing it to consume us.

Lord, don't let it consume us. Help us make sure the people we love know they are loved...