okay, so in the song posted above (points finger to ceiling) the chorus goes like this
I’ve seen dreams that move the mountains
Hope that doesn’t ever end, even when the sky is falling
I’ve seen miracles just happen
Silent prayers be answered
broken hearts become brand new
that’s what faith can do
Well, I love this song now because of one line. “Broken hearts become brand new”
I used to laugh at people all the time because they’re all “omg my heart is broken it’s never going to heal I”m going to die from this ailment” and I’ve never really understood it. Until I went through it. so yeah now you’re probably going to roll your eyes and say “Wow, just another teenager that’s getting carried away by hormones anjd needs a reality check!”
In teenagers defense, they really don’t have any bigger pain to compare the “heartbreak” to. So you can’t blame them for feeling like it’s the end of the world when the biggest thing in their world at the time is completely disrupted.
Anyway, I believe that heartbroken is the perfect word for my state these past six months. Two of my brothers, the ones closest to me in age and relationship, up and decided to enlist in the Marines. Out of the blue. completely random. Totally could not have seen that coming. I am dealing with the idea that before another year is up, John and Timothy will be at the mercy of Obama. They will be out of my house, out of my life(well, kind of), half a continent away from me… and I will have no one to go on walks with late at night and rant all of the frustrations of my day to. And then there’s the obvious reason why people don’t like other people going into the military. They could get shot. They could get captured. They could get shipped off to Japan. They could die. And no one has even tried to tell me that there’s a 100% chance that they won’t die. Because no one can promise that. and they’re a lot closer to the action than normal people would’ve been in that situation.
On top of that, the guy I’ve had a crush on since Kindergarten, and have dreamed about marrying for nearly as long played me like a drum, messed with every romantic feeling I had inside of my being, and then showed up at The Youth Group Christmas party with a different girl on his arm. His new girlfriend.
Now I know I’ve been preaching for centuries about how high school relationships are stupid and the only thing that happens is people get hurt and bla bla bla… I still stand by that, but I’m a little bit more understanding now. After having my heart ripped out of my chest and stomped on unknowingly and seemingly half-wittingly, have a little bit more compassion for those who find themselves in that position.
There were nights when I didn’t want to go to bed because then I would be alone with all my memories. There were times when I wanted to kill things, there were times when I wanted to run from my problems, there were times when I wanted to give my friend the Irishman a call and set up a “drown my sorrows” night. There were times I wanted to drown all thought in loud music and the crush of people.
I confess I gave in to the urge to yell. to scream. to cause people pain. to cry. But most of all to blame God for all of the mistakes that I’d done. Asking why I had to be vulnerable, asking why he had taken my brothers from me. Why he had ripped my best friend from me and given him to someone else. Why he’d let my heart be stomped on. I was so angry at God. So angry and everyone for not noticing how hard I was taking it. So angry at all my friends for blowing off what I was going through and forgetting that there was anything wrong. But I took out all that anger and pain and frustration on God. Like it was his fault that I’d messed up. Epically.
I spent the four months after the fatefull Christmas party in the worst kind of depression. I didn’t care about school, I didn’t care about my friends, I didn’t care about God. I just wanted to get through each day so that someday I could go away and leave my life and start afresh.
And then Pastor Jeremy preached about a love that takes you out of the crap and doesn’t just clean you up, but gives you a whole new identity. A love that sacrificed more then kindergarten dreams and a little girl’s security. A love that didn’t ask for perfection, but honesty. weakness, vulnerability. A love that was just waiting for me to take a step of faith and say “I screwed up, and I can’t fix this on my own. Help me.”
And with that step of faith God healed a broken, beaten, battered, bloody, mangled heart. Just with the words “God, I’m tired of wallowing in my filth, help me.” I accepted that love. I returned that love.
What can faith do? It’s not just a really cool song, It’s pretty much the story of the last six months of my life.