This past Christmas, like many others before it, was hard.  My “difficult” father tends to “act-out” during the holidays to get the attention he craves, and this Christmas was no exception.  So, my therapist suggested I do some restorative care to help heal my immediate father wound, and to help me manage my long-term depression: what Rick Springfield calls, “Mr. D.” 

I remember making an entire ritual and event when Taylor Swift released “Mine” in 2010, the single from Speak Now. I curled up on the couch and put in my earbuds, pressing play with all the pomp and circumstance a fifteen year old could muster. It was the first time Taylor was releasing a single since I fell in love with her music—but that wasn’t why I remember that moment so vividly....

Sometimes I feel like I walk around in life on the verge of insanity. If someone could see into my mind, they might consider me a tad unstable. There seem to be so many voices in my head! I wonder, especially in times of crisis, how I am to move forward with all the noise. Of course, I want to believe His voice alone, but in moments of pain and agony, that seems like a near impossible task.

There are only a few memories I can recall to explore the day my father left our house. These are expressed in the first sonnet: The Loss. It reflects a memory of events that culminated in the day my dad left the house where our family lived. The second sonnet, The Suffering, covers the period of my adolescence through early adulthood. The third sonnet, The Healing, opens with an allusion to The Interior Castle by St. Teresa of Avila; this is a work I confess to having not yet read, but I have heard numerous talks on the Saint and her work on inner prayer. The second stanza of the third sonnet begins by referencing a song by Life Giving Wounds team member and musician Michael Corsini called Waiting in the Wound. This song had a profound impact upon me when I went on the Life Giving Wounds retreat and I still will listen to it and meditate when the mood arises.

Music became a way for me not only to relive and dwell on my brokenness, but a place of healing where the melody of God’s Word filled the emptiness of my heart. My soul was like a dry, parched land, and music became the rain that soaked me to my core. Music became an oasis and a refuge. Even to this day, in my moments of deepest darkness and despair, when nothing else seems to be able to bring me peace, if I turn to music, the Truth soaks me through and soothes my wounds. When I cannot see the Truth on my own, I allow God to sing His Truth over me, again and again.