O Rocker

There is a rocking chair in our house that is sacred ground. It is beyond heirloom. It was in Marti’s grandmother’s house and it held her when nothing and no one else would. It represents safety, security, peace and understanding. It signifies disclosure if you get too close. It knows what no one else knows. It knows secrets. It holds pain. Oh, if it could talk, the stories it would tell! Ah, but then again, it wouldn’t, because that is it’s job – to hold those stories and only weep silently when it creaks. That is why we can never get it fixed. Who would cry then?

As we focus on women today, we want to think about what they carry that they cannot tell. We don’t need to know the whole story, but we need to know the stories are there, and the saddest part is some are still being told. All can be forgiven, but all cannot be forgotten. Forgetting is God’s business; we need to remember so as not to let it happen again.

The creak is for a purpose: that I might not create more pain. I am so stupid – so full of pride. I don’t think it’s me when it is.

Think of the silence in the churches where women remain so to protect their husbands, and the husbands who don’t know and don’t care are the worst offenders. Day after day a lie is being told by what is hidden, and no one but the rocker knows.

As Marti says: Do you really think Women’s Week is just for women?

O Rocker
words by Marti Fischer
music by John Fischer

My chair creaks in the moonlight
As I rock my child to sleep
It talks to me as if each creak
Is a memory to keep
It remembers when I first found out
That my favorite grandma died
And I threw myself into its lap
And cried and cried and cried
And there’s a creak for loneliness
And there’s a creak for fear
And there’s a creak for daydreams
I was lost in for a year

O rocker, rocker
Brush the pale moonlight
O rocker, rocker
Hush the child tonight
O rocker, rocker
Hold me while I pray
O rocker, rocker
Rock my soul away

I woke up just in time to lose
To lose my childhood no goodbyes
And no one but my rocker
Saw the blood drip down my thighs
And the days and years to follow
Brought the pain and joy of love
And my rocker creaked each time they weren’t
What I was dreaming of

O rocker, rocker
Brush the pale moonlight
O rocker, rocker
Hush the child tonight
O rocker, rocker
Hold me while I pray
O rocker, rocker
Rock my soul away

But the creak that’s most familiar
The one that I remember best
Is when God the Father laid His perfect
Peace upon my breast
And now my child is cradled there
In midnight’s soft repose
In in the moonlight creaking
I know my rocker knows

O rocker, rocker
Brush the pale moonlight
O rocker, rocker
Hush the child tonight
O rocker, rocker
Hold me while I pray
O rocker, rocker
Rock my soul away

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4 Responses to O Rocker

  1. Carole in Midland says:

    There is such a rocker in my house, too – built by my mother’s grandfather, it rocked my mom, all three of us kids, and a grandchild. It sits silently in the foyer now, welcoming all who enter this home. It missed rocking a generation of great-grandchildren, but my hope is that SOMEDAY it will rock their children and that they will cherish this lovely old rocker as much as I do…

  2. Andrew P. says:

    Thanks for sharing these songs the last couple of days. Would you mind telling us when you wrote and recorded them? Are these from years ago, or is either of them more recent? Just curious.

  3. Cynthia Cody says:

    Today is my youngest daughter’s birthday. I have had 6 children and lots of grandchildren. I have rocked and listened and have wanted to be that safe place for them to come to. I think this poem/ song reflects the heart of us all. Greatly appreciated from Grani C

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