Far From Home: Hang up my Harp #2

The Song that Echoes our Sorrow, our Mistakes, and our Hope

Inspired by | Psalm 137 | and | Isaiah #10 |

“I was just a boy when it happened. The Euphrates river shimmered under a pale sun as we trudged along its banks, Babylonian soldiers flanking us on either side. They laughed and mocked us, their voices sharp as arrows. ‘Sing us one of your songs of Zion!’ they jeered. Their words cut deeper than any whip.

My father gripped my hand so tightly I thought it might break. I looked up at him, and for the first time, I saw tears streak his face. Without a word, he reached into the bundle on his back and pulled out his harp. It was beautiful once, the pride of our household, but now it looked like a ghost of its former self—scarred and silent. He hung it on a tree by the water’s edge. Others followed suit, one by one, their harps swaying gently in the breeze like a mournful procession.

‘Never forget, Azariah,’ my father said, his voice breaking. ‘Never forget Jerusalem. Even if I cannot sing, even if my hands are bound, my heart will always remember.’

That moment stayed with me. It’s why I still carry my own harp, though my fingers tremble to play it. There’s a song I want you to hear—a song that tells the story of our exile. It captures the weight of those mocking voices, the silence of the harps, and the unshakable vow we made to remember Jerusalem.

Listen to it, and let it remind you: our mistakes brought us here, but our hope will lead us home.”