I’m having a little bit of a hard time organizing my feelings into defined words. I don’t know if it’s because, after all the talking I do every week, I just don’t have anything left to say? Or if it’s because my soul can’t handle more talking-about-the-hard-things. So, I’m not sure where to start when I begin to type out this journey. I really want to spill it as I walk through it.
What I can tell you is that Pieces by Amanda Cook/Bethel is my lifeline, right now. Every week, I have to dig up all the painful things and voices that make me feel powerless and I have to fight against them. It’s so exhausting and I feel raw, open, bleeding, and buzzing for the rest of the week. Counseling has this way (obviously) of bringing the sediment to the top so that it can be washed out, dirty water rinsed clean.
But, in the process, new fears are formed (or maybe old fears in new outfits) and all my hurt is showing up in my dreams. Literally.
This song, though.
You don’t give your heart in pieces
You don’t hide yourself to tease us
I’ve written about this song before, I heard it for the first time the morning after I had an especially daunting and taunting dream about the abandonment I didn’t know I lived through. And all my soul-clogs just came up and out; afterward, I lay in my husband’s arms weeping, shoulders shaking and nose running, because I needed to hear that God is a good dad. I needed to know that He doesn’t intentionally hide Himself from me to tease me, to see if I’ll have the courage or energy to seek after Him.
I feel like a lot of those feelings are what I think dads and God are like. A means to an end. A vessel to manipulate, to control, so that “His way” can be the only alternative to the highway. I still don’t know what it means to have God be Dad, Father. I don’t know what that looks like in a way that is not filled with twisted emotions and mental games that leave me doubting myself.
But this song tells me what I know is true. So I put it on repeat, buds in my ears, and I listen to it, willing it to seep into my soul. I let my hard beat hard to the rhythm and I remind myself that this is what God is like, not all those other things I’ve learned, the lies used to keep me under-thumb.
Your love’s not fractured
It’s not a troubled mind
It isn’t anxious, it’s not the restless kind
Your love’s not passive
It’s never disengaged
It’s always present
It hangs on every word we say
Love keeps its promises, it keeps its word
It honors what’s sacred, cause its vows are good
Your love’s not broken
It’s not insecure
Your love’s not selfish, Your love is pure