"I am afraid, but I will sing."

For those of you who may not know, I am a pretty enthusiastic fan of Doctor Who.

This speaks to me on a personal level.

It would take me ages to describe what exactly it’s about. The show has been around for a while, since 1963, to be exact, but from 1996 until 2005 it went off the air. The Britons went in an uproar, there was weeping and gnashing of the teeth (or so I imagine), some angry letters to the BBC were written (again, or so I imagine), and before you could say wibbly-wobbly timey-wimey stuff, in 2005 the revived series made its way to television airwaves again.

In my not-so-humble opinion, you have to start from the beginning in order to completely “get it”. And no, by “the beginning”, I do NOT mean starting with David Tennant. Watch him though, his stuff is great. I also don’t mean starting from the waaaaaaaaayy beginning, although I would suggest giving the Tom Baker era a good viewing. I was entertained to say the least. I mean, start with season 1, Christopher Eccleston. It’s only 12 episodes, and believe me, it’s probably the most underrated out of the entire revived series. Ok, I’m getting a little carried away. You may start from the beginning and still not “get it”, and that’s ok. It took me a few episodes.  But if you’re not sure, please stick with it! Please. Pretty please. I’d love to talk about it with you sometime!

I started watching Doctor Who at the end of 2013. Oh, I’d heard about it, mostly from my group of college friends, and I had zero desire to watch it whatsoever (That’s also how I was before I watched Lord of the Rings, and now I’m a hopeless fan of that series too). Given that, I finally decided to give this alien time traveler with a sidekick a try. 2013 was also probably one of the worst years of my life: My sister and I went through a prolonged period of financial strain, as I was working retail, which, at best gives you 20 hours a week, and she graduated from Berea with a nursing degree and, after being promised open doors after open doors by her nursing peers and professors, struggled to find a job. An almost-ten year friendship abruptly came to an end, although there had been red flags for a number of years. My family went through some pretty difficult personal issues; I won’t go into the details. And finally, my 91-year-old grandpa, and the last surviving parent of my mom, passed away on April 9, my 23^rd birthday.  Needless to say, by the end of 2013, I was exhausted: physically, mentally, emotionally. I spent many nights crying out to God, praying with all that I had that 2014 would be better (Praise God He answers prayer, amen?!)

As I progressed through the series, finishing the revived season (up to that point) in May of 2014, I realized that this ridiculously popular show that I was so eager to turn my nose up to was, in fact, good. Better than good. It was funny.  It was light-hearted. It was gripping, at times. It was fast-paced, unique, a step above most cookie-cutter sitcoms that the major networks seemed to shove down our throats- and still do. Some of the episodes completely tore me to shreds, a la “Doomsday” and “The End of Time” (Thank you, Russell T Davies, for making me cry, something I don’t easily do).  It sounds ridiculous, but at times, it’s even helped strengthen my faith and my relationship with God. That’s another blog for another time.

So this past weekend, my sis and I were taking part in our now-ritualistic weekend viewing of the newest season of Doctor Who. Can I just talk about this season and Peter Capaldi for a minute? Ok, great, thanks guys! Um, season 9, y'all. I can’t even begin to describe how impressed I am. I mean, SERIOUSLY. This is what it used to be like! In my opinion, every single episode has been absolutely fantastic. And that has been a rarity for me personally, with the exception of the 3rd season, which to this day still stands as my favorite! And do not even get me started on Peter Capaldi. Oh. My. Lanta. All right, I have to admit that it took a couple of episodes for me to warm up to him (I love love love David Tennant and Matt Smith had some good moments, but his seasons overall did not wow me at all, like not even a little), but I am now convinced that if Peter Capaldi's Doctor showed up at my door step and said "Let's go, Holly," I'd drop everything right then and there without even thinking twice. Yep, Twelve is getting close to becoming "my" Doctor (One brief sidenote: So there's this thing with Whovians, what fans call themselves, and they each have "a" Doctor, and it's just a term meaning their favorite Doctor). But Peter Capaldi's performances, IMO pretty spectacular in season 8, have just gone up to a whole new level this season. He's become so enthralled in this role that I can't look away any time he's on screen. I've definitely been wowed a lot more this season, and definitely moved...dang, there's been some subtle but powerful moments...For example, and this brings me to the blog's title:

Sis and I were watching the most recently aired episode, The Girl Who Died (very minor plot spoiler here if you haven't seen it yet- I don't give anything too dastardly away), and there's a scene in which the Doctor and Clara are...attempting to rally the troops, so to speak, and they're interrupted by a baby crying. One of the hidden talents of the Doctor is that he can speak baby (I am not making this up). As the scene goes on, he's "translating" the baby's crying, and you find out that the baby, a little girl, is scared: she's afraid for what's to come, she's afraid of unkind people, she adores her mother...

"Turn your face towards me, Mother, for you...you're beautiful. And I will sing for you. I am afraid, but I will sing." 

And I just remember feeling like as if I got the wind knocked out of me...what a beautiful and powerful statement: to take something as strong and raw as fear and turn it into something uplifting, all through the eyes of an innocent child...

"I am afraid, but I will sing."

To me, it could be something straight out of Psalms in the bible. As I mentioned earlier, there's so much power and beauty in that one statement, an almost ironic dichotomy: You definitely don't associate song with fear. I've pretty much been "meditating" on that one line since then, and how it completely captures what I went through in 2013. This line reminded me so much of the prayers I prayed that year, as my family and I walked through the difficulties we did. What a statement of faith, though! It's almost as if to say, "God, I have no idea what is going on right now, or why any of this is happening, but I will take this prayer, these words, and give them to you in spite of my fear." That is music to His ears! This line also reminded me of a similar situation I found myself in just this year: Not necessarily hardships or family issues, just a lot of hurt, feeling confused, feeling like the rug had been pulled out from me, feeling like I'd lost something so wonderful. And to be honest, there was some doubt: towards God, towards myself...maybe all that had happened, all the good times, were NOT part of some grander plan after all? Today, almost 3 weeks later, it's still hard sometimes, not because the hurt and confusion and doubt are still there (it really isn't!), but because I miss the way things used to be, in the sense of something just as simple as talking every day. But it will pass. Every day, you get a little stronger. And it turns out, the baby ended up *nearly* saving the day! :)

It sounds silly, but I almost wish I had Doctor Who to lean on back then. But it's in my circle of passions now, and I also have my faith, which is the tether that keeps all of my passions together. I just can't believe something as simple as a science-fiction television show can have so much impact. I also can't wait to see what the rest of this newest season of Who has in store...(spoilers: I did read a Radio Times article recently that hinted at every episode. Oh man. That penultimate/finale is going to be a doozy, better start preparing now)

Doctor Who is more than just a show to me. Sometimes the writing just blows me away. It's an escape when I need it. It's a romp in the park, with good guys and bad guys. It's a love story. It's a friendship story. It's a source of inspiration. It warms my heart. It helps me to get in touch with my inner sap/hopeless romantic, my inner tomboy, my not-so-inner comedic side, my inner textbook crying-into-your-bowl-of-ice-cream emotional woman. It reminds me that, even though it's not real, there is good in the world. It reminds me that love can surpass and withstand any boundaries in time and space, that true friends are forever, and that compassion and mercy win every time! And so much more. Ohhhhhhhhhhhh so much more.