Mix Tape :: Track One

If you are of the High Fidelity generation, you no doubt have always dreamed of your major crush making you the illustrious Mix Tape. Before we were dating, my husband was in a few garage bands, and had made a mix just for me (I think he'd had a little crush on me back then) of his band's performances, so as to include almost all the songs in their repertoire (this was per my request, but he had clearly spent quite some time on it). On the cover, he spelled out his name phonetically, in quotes, because everyone was always getting it wrong. I remember thinking, "I know how to say your name, silly!" Little did either of us know I would one day be the recipient of all the mispronounciations.

That was the closest he got to making me a true mix tape until 2006 when he ripped my heart to shreds and started his long difficult journey to recovery from addiction. This new one, he made during our 2-month separation...a compilation of songs that represented Us, and our struggle to figure out marriage in the midst of life's onerous trials. That's not how I imagined receiving my mix tape, to say the least; but I still can't listen to it without full-on crying. The songs ring truer and more deeply today than they did those long four years ago. Photo courtesy of Ani-Bee on Flikr

Track One :: Ginny Owens, If You Want Me To

The pathway is broken and the signs are unclear

And I don't know the reason why you brought me here

But just because you love me the way that you do

I'm gonna walk through the valley if you want me to

'Cause I'm not who I was when I took my first step

And I'm clinging to the promise you're not through with me yet

So if all of these trials bring me closer to you

Then I will go through the fire if you want me to

It may not be the way I would've chosen

When you lead me through a world that is not my home

But you never said it would be easy

You only said I'd never go alone

So when the whole world turns against me and I'm all by myself

And I can't hear you answer my cries for help

I'll remember the suffering your love put you through

And I will go through the valley if you want me to

I remember after that first disclosure in May of 2000 feeling so confused, angry, disgusted, alone and in such a really dark place that I longed deeply for the Light. I remember listening to the car radio and not being able to change it from the cheesy Christian station, because anything that didn't fill my ears with pictures and words of pure hope and goodness was just too, too dark for me. My emotions were extremely fragile.

This is a song that was very popular at the time and it played every day. Every time I heard this song, I chose to believe. I made it my prayer. I just want to dissect a couple of lines real quick:

Heck yeah, the pathway is broken! The signs are unclear? It's like Dr. Seuss came in and redecorated my entire existence! I no longer know the man I thought I grew up with, fell in love with, married and had babies with. Which way do I go? What do I do now? In those first months and years, choosing to believe that God loves me perfectly (and He's the only one that ever will) and that He's completely trustworthy--choosing to believe this--gave me the courage I needed to keep walking forward through this valley. There have been changes in elevation over the years, but it has been 10 years, and I'm still hiking an incline. I thank God that He has given me more and more evidence of the mountain top, like a sunrise...taking a decade to begin spreading over the peaks.

I'm not who I was when I took my first step... Thank God! But what does that mean? That now I can handle more painful things? Do I have the wisdom to deal with this pain? I didn't feel like it. At the very least, these lines spoke to how I am changing still. I am growing into the person God wants me to be, and this is an opportunity within that promise of God to myself.

When you lead me through a world that's not my own... This was a welcome reminder that this heartache is NOT okay, it is NOT what God wants for us, it is NOT normal. I wasn't meant for this world...this is a crappy waiting room. But I am not alone. This is friggin' hard, but I am never, never alone here.

The last stanza... I can relate to all of it. There have been times when I felt so utterly alone with no one who understood, and crying out to God, only to hear my own echo in a cold, dark room. I don't think God left me, but I think sometimes I wasn't ready to be moved forward, so God had me wait. In retrospect, I believe much of my pain in those early years was because of my fantasy marriage-skin being ripped off of my flesh. I didn't even realize that this needed to be done in order to understand Truth and to live in it. So selfish! I'm sure I loved myself much more than I loved my husband then. But there is nothing that I can experience that could be worse than what Jesus experienced on (and on the way to) the cross. If I believe what Jesus accomplished on Calvary at all, then I suppose I can go through a valley when I'm told to go through a valley.

In the following performance, Ginny has tweaked it a bit from the recorded version, and added a verse...I love it! She has a wonderful story, including how being blind has caused her challenges that she chose to walk through with her Creator.

Monster

Not that it needs explaining, but this song typifies what is going on inside the addict. It is seriously tragic.

...But not fatal!  Not hopeless.  I love what you hear at the end of the video; the first step toward redemption from addiction. "Sir, we have a containment breach.... we lost 'em.... they're out in the open." That part... is seriously beautiful.

MONSTER
by Skillet


The secret side of me, I never let you see
I keep it caged but I can't control it
So stay away from me, the beast is ugly
I feel the rage and I just can't hold it

It's scratching on the walls, in the closet, in the halls
It comes awake and I can't control it
Hiding under the bed, in my body, in my head
Why won't somebody come and save me from this, make it end?

I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin
I must confess that I feel like a monster
I hate what I've become, the nightmare's just begun
I must confess that I feel like a monster

I, I feel like a monster
I, I feel like a monster

My secret side I keep hid under lock and key
I keep it caged but I can't control it
'Cause if I let him out he'll tear me up, break me down
Why won't somebody come and save me from this, make it end?

I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin
I must confess that I feel like a monster
I hate what I've become, the nightmare's just begun
I must confess that I feel like a monster

I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin
I must confess that I feel like a monster
I, I feel like a monster
I, I feel like a monster

It's hiding in the dark, it's teeth are razor sharp
There's no escape for me, it wants my soul, it wants my heart
No one can hear me scream, maybe it's just a dream
Maybe it's inside of me, stop this monster

I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin
I must confess that I feel like a monster
I hate what I've become, the nightmare's just begun
I must confess that I feel like a monster

I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin
I must confess that I feel like a monster
I've gotta lose control, do something radical
I must confess that I feel like a monster

I, I feel like a monster
I, I feel like a monster
I, I feel like a monster
I, I feel like a monster

Too Late...(?)

I don't know how I stopped on the country station the other day (I'm not a fan of the country music) but I was surprised by this song that embodies how I'm feeling in my marriage right now.



I honestly don't think my husband understands the gravity of betraying my trust so...many...times. I think because I'm not punishing him with anger and banishment right now, he actually thinks he's....I don't know how to put it. In the game? But I feel like those last lies eradicated the last remaining shred of hope I had for him, for a decent marriage, for a normal relationship where trust and respect abide.

Of the four loves, eros has been completely destroyed, like the paper target at a carnival shooting booth, the ragged pieces scattered in the dirt. My husband stands holding the smoking rifle, not understanding what he has killed.

He lays down more money.

"Tha's the only target we had!" says the carnie, as he shuts down the booth, taking down the sign, stocking up ammo on the shelf. The sun is setting, families are laughing, leaving with their cotton candy. Cars fire up and amble out of the bumpy parking field. My husband stands with a half-smile, feeling like he should put down the gun but not quite knowing why. "What about my prize?" he asks.

"No prizes fer what you done. Park's closed. We done here. Come back tomorrah!" The carnie grabs the rifle and lets down the awning, disappearing from sight.

My husband turns and the sun is gone. A piece of the target flutters past his boot. "No prize..." he mumbles. Park's closed. We're done here.

You Are Grace To the Brokenhearted

My life has theme songs. That's all there is to it.

There was a time, at the beginning of our recovery, when I was probably legitimately depressed and wasn't doing anything about it yet. I wasn't exercising, I was sucking down coffee-which has proved to be a total depressant to me, and I was underestimating what being in the throes of a crisis really meant. Ignoring myself emotionally and spiritually, I might focus on everything physical around me ...which means, in every direction I look, I'm a failure. I'm hard-pressed to find a success on my long list of expectations for myself...except that my kids are cute, happy, smart and haven't managed to kill themselves yet, although the youngest one gives a daily go of it.

"...Times are tough, the goin' rough, like there never was a Master Plan."

This crisis of discontentment and exhaustion sat patiently next to the recent one I'd gone through in my marriage, reminding me that there is hope within brokenness, a light at the end of the tunnel, if you will.

This is the song that encouraged me, in view of my struggles in my job as a stay-at-home mom, and crisis in general. Thank you, Lost Dogs, for preachin' it to me again and again...God speaks to me in Rockabilly.

Blessing in Disguise-- Lost Dogs

How often do you spot the angels

Or feel the unseen hand?

Most times are tough, the goin’ rough

Like there never was a master plan

Those steadfast doors don’t open

And you pray but you don’t understand

You’ve got to...

Hold fast the hope that’s in you

Don’t always trust your eyes

Sometimes it takes a long time to see it as a

Blessing in disguise

We live upon this dark surface

And God, He moves upon the deep

What is concealed will be revealed

There is no promise He won’t keep

Some are confused by the shadows

We’re awake now but we’re half asleep

Hold fast the hope that’s in you

Don’t always trust your eyes

Sometimes it takes a long time to see it as a

Blessing in disguise

Sometimes the dark can move our hearts

To lean for the light of the Son

And our ways don’t become His ways

Until we are undone

Hold fast the hope that’s in you

Don’t always trust your eyes

Sometimes it takes a long time to see it as a

Blessing in disguise

And after you’ve been broken

You may not realize

That you are grace to the broken hearted

And a blessing—a blessing in disguise

Thank you, LORD, that you bind the brokenhearted, that you are renaming me an oak of righteousness, a planting of YOU, for the display of your splendor. This is the year of the Lord's favor.

Restore My Soul

Here's another song that has moved me since, well, at least the early 90's when I first heard it...mostly for the music which is impossible not to dance to...which in itself is impressive being a "Christian" song and all. But recently, as I heard the song again on my old Mix Tape, I heard the lyrics for the first time. Not that I really had never heard them before, but they were sorta poetic garbledy-gook to me before. Suddenly it was me in that picture, my fingers, my spirit, my soul in need of restoration...

Restore My Soul-- The Choir

I call to you with one lung exploded
from breathing the dust of the earth
with my tongue eroded
from licking the crust of the earth

a tear away from reconciled
a prayer away from whole
restore my soul...

I cry to you with two eardrums blistered
from laughing at pictures of night
with my vertebrae twisted
from dancing with creatures of night

a day away from sanctified
a breath away from whole
restore my soul...

I crawl to you with ten fingers smoking
from turning the pages of sin
with my spirit choking
from earning the wages of sin

a bridge away from justified
a step away from whole
restore my soul...

Imagine crawling on blistered hands and bloody, dirty knees toward Jesus. You know that he's closer than he looks (a blurry image out of reach) because you can hear his voice, although it is Truth that merely whispers through the noisy crowds and clouds of lies and culture, history and codependency.

Two extraordinary things happened as I drug my tattered soul toward the blurry image of Christ, leaving a trail of bloody mud as I went. The final thing is what I'll tell you first. I recognized one day my own image in the mirror, and it was more like the one I used to know: the one more innocent and clean. The blood was gone, and the wounds were...not open...and still tremendous scars- pretty ugly, gnarly scars, pink and fragile- but what's that? No pain. Even as I touched them, lightly at first--no pain! Of course, once in a while I will have to jump back in a sudden searing sting, like the scars are being meddled with by a tick or some huge, intrusive insect. But a swat away, and my mind is snapped back to that Truth that is all too real to me now, and the pain subsides. I rub gently the scars as the adrenaline melts. I sometimes whisper the name of Jesus over and over.

The first extraordinary thing is that the closer I got to Jesus, the more in focus the blurry image became, the less it looked like what I thought Jesus was supposed to look like. Instead of this iconic, long-haired stranger-man in a robe coming at me with arms open as if all I needed was a big hug, I saw: a woman with blonde hair who makes me feel like I still live in California, and there were tears in her eyes as she watches my Lover dice up my heart and lay it on the table like a tempting sushi display, and I could tell her heart was breaking right alongside mine as she served us both grace in a chocolate cake. I saw another woman with sad eyes of understanding and compassion watch me through plastic glasses, her token red lips telling me that because of Christ, I will survive this. And yet another woman, running alongside me on a treadmill, coaching me to work out the body and heal the soul, and I remember how we strengthened muscles, built up endurance and how my head cleared until I finally understood that Jesus actually loves me, just the way I am, with all this blood and dirt and brokenness. I saw the couple who counseled us, smiling with the certainty that of course we'll get through this, like they knew that we'd already won, and they were calling it like it was, showing us the truth and asking us what was stopping us from doing the hard thing. As the image got clearer I saw that it was actually countless babysitters and friends and neighbors, helping me with the everyday tasks of life, and believing in the future that I myself could not bring myself to believe in. He looked like all the people who said they'd stay by me until my heart was whole, promising that happy endings are possible, that you just have to take the risk and trust God with what 'happy' is going to look like, because you have never seen anything like this before.

As Jesus came into focus I realized it wasn't one guy in a robe--it was a whole crowd of people, each of them carrying Christ's redemption in their own hearts, each of them an oak, a priest, a shepherd. As I approach this Jesus I am enveloped, and I am no longer crawling. They absorb my body and I absorb theirs, and I remember suddenly how my soul got to taking that nosedive into an empty pool...

It was a long ladder up to the diving board. I didn't always realize where I was going or that I was still climbing, because there seemed to be so many people there with me. The whole world seemed to be cheering me on, my Lover just rungs above me, just out of reach, and I needed to touch him. Finally at the top I'm so close, I can almost feel--

I lunge out arms extended....into nothing...emptiness.

My lungs explode and I can't breathe, I notice finally the eroded state of my tongue and I can't speak, the pain of my blistered eardrums (I can't hear God!), the twisting of my vertebrae. My fingers burn, blistered and smoking, and my spirit....chokes. What have I done, what have I become?

Then the tears. Days and days of tears. And the prayers. Some are mine, many are not, because I just don't have the strength. Days go by, sometimes taking years just to pass hours, and I have to remember to breathe. So He breathes on me, an immaculate CPR and my consciousness resumes... Those friends, those bodies making up the image of Christ, they have been busy building a bridge for me, and wholeness is on the other side. Before I can wonder if I have faith enough, I realize I've already been walking across the bridge, and my steps have brought me to justification, sanctification... and I am reconciled... to Jesus! Reconciled to my Father. I plead with grateful tears for him to restore my soul and he tells me it has already been done, and I am whole.

And yes, I'll take that big hug now....

"Return, faithless people," declares the LORD, "for I am your husband. I will choose you...Then I will give you shepherds after my own heart, who will lead you with knowledge and understanding..."
Jeremiah 3.14,15