One of my favorite albums of 2010 has got to be Florence and the Machine’s first album, Lungs.

The entire album is brilliant and breath-taking, and I highly recommend it.

But there is one song that I want to write about in particular. The track Cosmic Love speaks such volumes to me in a deeply personal way.

As the song begins, you’re immediately clued in on a love story between a celestial being and the singer, whom one can assume is either a frail human, or spiritual in nature. Looking up at the beauty of the sky’s expanse, a falling star falls from its heart (God’s perhaps?), so beautiful, but causing tragic, horrifying damage: it blinds the singer, leaving her hysterical and in pain, stumbling in darkness.

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out
You left me in the dark
No dawn, nor day-I’m always in this Twilight
In the shadow of your heart

The singer can no longer see any heavenly markers to guide her way. She’s panicking, groping for guidance, to know her love has not left her alone. But she finds nothing. You left me in the dark.

And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat
I tried to find the sound
But then, it stopped, and I was in the darkness
So darkness I became

So sure of her abandonment, she sinks into the darkness. She can’t even be guided by hearing, anymore.

I took the stars from my eyes and then I made I map
I knew that somehow I could find my way back
Then I heard your heart beating
You were in the darkness, too
So I stayed in the darkness with you

Somehow, the singer remembers the power of the very thing that blinded her. The object of her affliction actually gave her a way out: stars provide guidance and light. Which¬† she can use to return to happiness, where she wants to “go back to,” instead of moving forward.

At that point, our singer hears the heartbeat of her love. Suddenly, getting out of the darkness doesn’t seem so important. Rather, it’s not where she was, it was whom she was with that mattered.

God is this way. We are the frail human staring up at His other-worldly beauty, falling in love. And God does afflict us, but like the stars, those very objects are intended to ultimately guide us to a new place of faith and intimacy.

When we can realize, like our singer, that He has never left us, but has just gone silent, we learn that it isn’t important where we are, it’s Who we are with that matters. I don’t want to be in the light if He is in the dark. We’re never meant to bond with our environment, but bond with the One who placed us there.