With a Heavy Heart, He Said, “This Is a Sorrow Too Deep for Words. My Prayers Are with Every Grieving Family Tonight.” What He Shared Next Is Currently in the Hearts of Millions Across the Country.
From the quiet hills of Franklin, Tennessee, Alan Jackson, known for his soul-stirring ballads and unshakable Southern grace, released one of the most heartfelt public statements of his career — not as a performer, but as a grieving American witnessing tragedy strike the land he deeply loves.
Sitting by the window of his home, dressed simply in denim and a well-worn cowboy hat, Alan spoke with eyes filled with sorrow and a voice laced with emotion.
“This is a sorrow too deep for words,” he began. “My prayers are with every grieving family tonight — every person who’s still waiting for news, still holding on to hope.”
The flooding, which has now claimed more than 110 lives and left over 160 missing, has devastated entire towns across Texas. And for Alan — a man whose songs so often speak of home, loss, and enduring love — the pain is personal.
“I’ve spent my life singing about this country — its people, its rivers, its strength. And right now, it’s hurting,” he said quietly. “But I also believe in the power of neighbors. I believe in the faith of families. And I believe that even in sorrow, we are not alone.”
Alan then paused, looked down for a moment, and whispered something so soft, it barely reached the microphone — yet fans who heard it say it was unforgettable:
“Lord, be near them. Every one of them.”
He went on to express deep admiration for the rescue workers, volunteers, and strangers-turned-heroes who are risking their lives to help others. He shared that he and his wife Denise had been glued to the coverage, praying for familiar faces, broken towns, and hopeful signs amid the rising waters.
“If you’re in Texas tonight and you feel forgotten, please hear this,” he said. “You are not. We see you. We love you. And we’re lifting you up.”
For millions who’ve been moved by Alan Jackson’s music for decades, this message was more than a reaction — it was a balm, a steady voice reminding us all that grief can be shared, and hope can be carried together.