A Letter to the Broken

A little background into this post. The other day I commented to a fellow blogger about how I have nearly let music go since Mom died because it triggers grief. This person responded, “Maybe it’s going thru it that will help you heal. A life without music, I know ur mom doesn’t want you to live that way if music reminds you so strongly of her.”

It was a profound moment. I found Elevation Worship’s Hallelujah Here Below album, inspired by a verse in Exodus where God requests an alter built with imperfect stones. The letter that follows is not what I planned to write this week, but writing is a lot like teaching; we must take advantage of the reachable moments. Even when the student is oneself.

Dear Survivor,

I’ve been living a life without music. There are 86,400 seconds in a day, and I don’t want to spend them crying. Music is a path of broken stones I’ve chosen not to traverse.

What happens when dreams are dashed? When nothing turns out the way it’s supposed to, we find ways to cope. This is necessary to move forward. There are stages when it’s important to avoid triggers. You are healing; you are fragile.

Behind the trigger is fear. We fear the pain associated with the path. Isn’t this just self care? Isn’t this just self preservation?

There is no such thing as healing by avoidance. It’s terrifying to tear down walls. After all, we have to function. We must do the things. The pain is compartmentalized so we can carry it.

For all of us facing this struggle, this knowing we need to keep moving, but at the same time saying, “I can’t do this or that”….self doubt is toxic. Those voices saying you can’t and your ability to do ___________ died when your hopes were dashed? Those are lies.

The truth is fear will steal dreams. Fear will make us stagnant. Look down the path of broken stones – there lies our redemption! The victory is IN vulnerability.

It is only when you begin walking and gathering and fashioning the imperfect stones that you see. The power is in the response. The power is in leaving the fear and the self doubt and the tragedy on the alter. The power is in the sacrifice.

I have been living a life without music; now, I’m listening. There are 86,400 seconds in a day, and I don’t want to spend them imprisoned. Like the flowers buried in fall, we will grow in the season to come.

Exodus 20:25

Yours in imperfection,

A Fellow Survivor