Living from the inside-out

A new discipline that I have recently been attempting to re-instill in myself is songwriting. I feel like music is always the last thing on my priority list, always wondering when it will find its way back near the top again. Something that I have found helpful is to sit down and just write...whether it be in the format of a song, poem, or merely prose. It enables me to seize the moment. It forces me to be still. It stirs me to let out what is held within.
Since this past May, I have had continued hindrances with my throat. This feeling of tightness and discomfort has kept me from singing and keeping strength in my singing. While I can still sing to an extent, I am unable to maintain consistency and control in my voice without straining. Music has been on the back burner since I released it to the Lord in spring '10. And, since summer '10, life has taken me on a completely different path than I ever could have imagined. All of it is good and necessary, just hard. Very hard. So, once can imagine the immense discouragement that this has been to me in the midst of an already difficult year. Even after running tests at the doctor, the issue remains unsolved because the tests came back good. I have nothing to explain what is wrong with my throat because, technically, there is really nothing wrong with it. This can only be targeted to some intense stress, mainly emotional, that my heart has undergone this year. I can kick against it, but that has not proved to be useful. So, this has led me to reflect on some things...basic concepts that I mentioned in a recent note on pausing, slowing down, and gaining a more holistic approach to health and life. It is too easy for me to become overwhelmed and stressed. Emotional implosions are what I call them. Sometimes, I just cry with frustration because anxiety comes so easily and peace does not. That inward collapse, that emotionally violent compression...it all comes too naturally. In thinking upon this, it is no wonder that this is physically manifested in the tightness and discomfort I feel in my throat, hindering the flow of vocal expression.

So, I'm searching...grasping...groping in the shadows for that sacred ground that Jacob spoke of in Genesis 28 when he said, "Surely the Lord is in this place and I did not know it." He set up a pillar there and called it Bethel, the House of God. Every moment is a "God-moment," a chance to worship Him. A sacred opportunity to give thanks. And, I think, this may prove to be the very healing balm that I need for a fuller, Spirit-given peace. This, too, may bring that strength to my voice when I learn to be still and praise from within.
So, this is why I sense a draw to write again. Snippets of poetry. Bits of melodies. All pooled together to erect my own "pillar" as I learn to be still in every season, moments that house Him. And, in thanksgiving, to stumble across the divine...the sacred...the very presence of the Lord, brooding over the waters. I will trust Him with this. I choose to trust Him in this. He is only ever faithful.

Cleaving,

You keep near the dust

Of my being

To the underside of Your wings.

Embracing,

You bestow life,

Impute righteousness,

Lavish affection,

Upon this earthen jar,

Chipped and faded.

Faithful to an infidel.

Jealous for a harlot.

You remain.