“The day the music died”

If you’re reading this there’s a good chance that you read most of what I write.  You know the story of, well… ME.  If you are new to this blog, please feel free to go back and read the previous posts.  Honestly I’m just tired of dwelling in that place.  I’m tired of crying and wondering what’s wrong with me.  I have reached a point in life where I know my limits and when there’s something that I cannot handle, I’ll be sure to let you know.

As I drove past my old house last week, I found myself tearing up.  I wondered out loud, “When will it stop hurting me to remember how little I mattered in that situation.”  It was one of those AHA moments.  Immediately the little inner voice(it sounded a lot like Frankie) rose up and shouted at me, “It will keep hurting you, as long as you let it!”

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Any of you who know me, probably know that one of my most favorite things to do is sing.  It comes from a place inside of me that gives me pure joy.  Somewhere in the last year or so, that joy faded.  Without me even noticing, the music inside of me died.  Maybe not completely dead, but severely wounded.  There was no joy.

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If we’re being completely honest, the music was never the cause of my joy.  Faith in God was the root of it all, and because of that faith I would sing.  Along the way, and I didn’t expect it, my faith took a hit.  When that happened, my anxiety got worse.  My self-confidence plummeted and any little thing got to me.

1 Corinthians 10:12- 

Don’t be so naive and self-confident. You’re not exempt. You could fall flat on your face as easily as anyone else. Forget about self-confidence; it’s useless. Cultivate God-confidence.” (The Message Bible)

I’ve been having trouble with some aspects of my walk with God.  If this blog is going to be open and honest, then I guess I should write about it.  I know without a doubt that God can change any situation.  I think we should talk to Him about everything.  I just don’t know if the things I’m praying for are the right things.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t pray for physical things like a new car or a million dollars.  I prayed so hard and long for certain things, and they just didn’t happen.  In fact, it was almost like the opposite of what I was praying for happened.  Now looking back I can see that in many ways, it was a good thing.  God’s plans are way better than any I could ever make.  Still, when I start to pray…  there’s a pause now.  I wonder, does what I’m about to say matter.  How do I know if I’m praying for the right thing.  I’ve had countless discussions on this, and heard numerous opinions.  They range from, “just pray for God’s will”, to “pray strategically and specifically.”  In my opinion neither one of these is wrong.  Either way you’re talking to God… right?  I’ve never had a problem with talking to God though, it’s trusting that I know how to pray correctly.  I know this is a messed up thought process, because talking to God is praying.  I’m going to try something new today…When I breathe in I’m talking to God. When I breathe out I’m listening.  I will breathe in shorter breaths than I puff out.  Maybe that’s the problem here, I’ve been listening to my mind more than my God.

Here’s a little tidbit about me, sometimes I can’t speak.  Sometimes I don’t want to.  In those times I know that God hears what’s in my heart anyway.  In the last week I found myself on my knees at 3 am begging Him to take the anxiety.  I had about 3 days without it, and then I had a day where I couldn’t stop shaking.  Looking around, I saw a familiar face.  I know that God places the right people around us at the right time.  To comfort or listen, maybe even to drag us kicking and screaming back to Him.  I made it through just like always.  It almost seems like when I say I can’t do/handle that, God proves to me that I can.  I let the fear of an anxiety attack throw me into an anxiety attack.  At least 15 times a week I think, “this is it! I’m not letting this control me anymore…” until the next time.

In the last few days, the music has started playing again.  I find myself singing at the most random of times.  I don’t know why or how, but a little piece of me(the old me) has returned.  I have listened to the radio while driving every single day this week.  It may seem silly to y’all, but really it’s a big change.  Usually I drive and my mind kicks into overdrive.  By the time I get where I’m going, the worry has won.  This week, even today, as the music played the anxiety lifted.  I sang at the top of my lungs, and a little bit of joy filled my soul.  Understanding that it’s a long journey to healing has not come easily.   I got my feelings hurt today, and once again I wound up feeling like an outsider.  As I drove to pick up pizza for dinner, my mind attacked my heart.  “They need family time, and that doesn’t include you”, it said.  That was just one of the many thoughts coursing through my head.  In the 20 minutes it took to drive there and back, my thoughts destroyed me once again.  Instead of just explaining myself, I tried to hold it in…  That never works.  It just lands more than one of us in a bad mood.

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I don’t know how to force myself to believe I am enough.  I don’t know how to shut off my sprinting mind.  I can’t force the ones I love to love me back.  I can hope that they do.  I can hope that they see when I’m having a hard time, and love me a little louder that day.  Now that I’ve emptied my mind for y’all to read, it’s time for a little sleep.  You know what though?  Tomorrow despite anxiety and worry I’m going to wake up, crank up the music, and start my day off with a song.  If I’m lucky, I’ll have someone I love singing beside me…

 

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