For those who haven’t grown up in the complex religious, political, and cultural web that many call “Christianity,” it is almost impossible to describe the distress of leaving it behind. We’re the Outlaws - living in that no-man’s land without a God, dodging bullets from well-meaning cowboys determined to lasso us back into Either-Or land, all the time preaching “love” that ain’t.
Debra’s leather, copious tats, and half-shaved head belie her sweet manner and ultra-feminine voice. She obviously doesn’t dwell in the land of Either-Or. Neither does her voice. Think of both Indigo Girls together and then some - smoky descents and heavenly heights conveying emotion by range, as well as technique and control: the perfect gifts for preaching to the Outlaws who’ve lived both.
Debra Lynn’s been there with the Outlaws and she’s come through it. Her work reflects a traditional hero’s journey, complete with a calling, departure, journey, and return. No different from Moses. No different from Jesus. No different from the Buddha. Forging a path no different from what each of us is called to do and sharing it to guide us on our own.
Love is Love
When I listened to the songs on Cheaper Than Therapy (Live at Eddie’s Attic), I was a little confused at first as to which were about love and passion for God and which were about love and passion for a person.
Then I realized that it didn’t matter. Passion and spiritual longing are not so very different at the core: they are both about the need to merge and dwell in the object of one’s love.
Someone once said that there are only two commandments, to love God with all your heart and soul and mind and to “love your neighbor as yourself,” not “to the extent that you love yourself”, but AS yourself. When we love each other, we love God. When we long for each other’s embrace, we are longing to be held by God. Many of the songs can be heard either way - love in the spiritual realm as well as the material one.
The Calling
The calling begins with something not making sense anymore.
In Lyin’ Awake, she explores the feeling of something she can’t understand but that just won’t leave her alone –the paradoxical sweetness and torture of the mystery, and the calling to venture out of her comfort zone.
You drive me mad in the most wonderful way/Lying awake, I can’t get you off my mind/You keep me spinning/turning you over in my brain.
Maybe there’s a reason I can’t see/Maybe there’s a reason bigger than me.
Callings often involve distress: Turn Me Away could be a song about unrequited love or one about the fear that God may not love you anymore or that you may not love God anymore - not the one you’ve been taught about, anyway: In the dark reaching out to you, a shaking halo
And I scream, and I scream/Pour out your love, pour out your love on me
The Departure
When that confusion becomes intense enough, it’s time to go.
In Hiawassee, her voice flies high and sweet, and she explains what it’s like to leave “home”, yet to long for it just the same: Truth be told, I’m the prodigal who fled.
If you listen to just one song, let it be Hold a Hurricane. Again, I don’t know if it’s a hymn or a love song. I just know it’s a beautiful longing for something:
Deep down inside/I knew, I’d end up like this/I’d be left behind the wreckage with the rest
You, you came out of the wind/Think you can grasp it in your hand/Honey, think again
You can’t hold a hurricane/Might as well enjoy the rain/Until it’s gone/Cause then it’s gone
There was a tease of harmonica on this one, and I wished for a little more, but, honestly, that would have just made a bigger puddle of tears on my floor. Every time. I can’t put on mascara before I play this one.
The Journey
There are battles to fight on the journey. There are Old Crows – maybe these are actual people or maybe self-hatred inner messages: Either way, the ominous, old West-like beginning portends what’s to come for Miss Crow: One of these days I’m gonna shoot you down, and you won’t even know what hit ya.
Silent Rider has a similar chilling tone - another force to be reckoned with on the journey - a sherif out to hurt what he can’t control:
They make no mistake to cross him/Not even his people/Cause he won’t think twice/But pull the trigger anyway
Blood runs thick/But pride, you know it runs deeper/Make you choose/You’re bound to lose/to silent rider
The Return
But all journeys, even perilous ones, come to an end. Debra Lynn says, between songs, that, “Community saved my life. Friendship saved my life.” And maybe because of that, of seeing love in those around her, she wrote Even When It Hurts - about the rediscovery of what she knew All Along– that God loves her just as she is:
You don’t run when it hurts/Won’t turn back when the road gets rocky/You’ve got a love that’s stronger than me
My father/my maker/never shaken one/Hold me close/you keep me safe and warm
Debra Lynn’s been there. And not only has she come through, but she shines her beautiful light to guide the rest of us Outlaws through the dark. She says, “Here’s how it is, ya’ll – it’s about love and love is love- and I’m here for ya, and so are the rest of us.” And she smiles.
She ends the album with a cover of the Rock of Ages hymn, inviting us to be in this journey together, holding and vibrating notes in a vocal balance of strength and tenderness. That’s who Debra Lynn is. And that’s the God she’s come to know.
Download her music or go hear her play. You’ll get your spirits lifted, and you’ll get it: She’s a courageous truth-teller who doesn’t forget the love part. Maybe she’s a prophet, hey, I don’t really know.
