Jacob Quade never wanted the song “Three Wooden Crosses” to mean something to him.

He didn’t want to identify with the lyrics of the second verse, seeing his father’s face when Randy Travis sings about the farmer who left the harvest, a home and 80 acres, the faith and love for growing things in his young son’s heart.

Because identifying with the song, embracing it when memories of his father wash over him, means it really happened. It means his father, Brad Quade, a farmer near Frost, really did die seven months ago after falling off a grain bin.

It means he’s gone forever and there’s nothing left to do but accept it.

It’s strange, though, how much comfort a three-minute song can bring to an ailing heart when the listener hears his own story in the lyrics. That’s what “Three Wooden Crosses” has done for Quade, 22, of Lake Crystal who still has a hard time talking about his dad, the man who wasn’t only a father but a friend.

“It basically changed my life, taught me to never take a day for granted. It could be the last day,” he said.

The song, like so many other songs for so many other broken hearts, has helped get Quade through a difficult time in his life. Here are a few other stories from people who found strength in music.

Help from above

On Feb. 12, 2007, my life changed forever. As I was driving to Fairmont to pick up a friend, I was overcome by a white-out caused by a snowplow.

I did not see a semi parked in the road waiting to turn, and I hit it. I was then rear-ended by another vehicle.

Very scared, I remember seeing the blue numbers on the back of the semi after the crash, the loudness of the airbags popping and my grandson crying. I remember seeing my life flash before me and a sudden calmness came over me.

I truly believe that Jesus took my steering wheel that Monday morning and has given me the strength to make it through this next journey of my life. I was airlifted to Rochester and taken into surgery to immobilize the many broken bones I suffered from.

I spent many days in the hospital at St. Marys, and I now live at a nursing home in Mankato to receive therapy to gain strength in my legs and arms to be able to walk again and return home.

I remember hearing Carrie Underwood’s “Jesus Take the Wheel” on the radio while in the hospital. It immediately reminded me of the accident and that Monday morning.