Whole (Colors Of Our God)

On Wednesday night, March 28, 2007, I walked down the driveway to get the mail. As I walked, my feet drug the ground and left a path in the pollen behind me. When I got back to the house, I sat down at the piano and started playing. One hour later, a song had emerged.

Just three weeks prior to that night, I had started counseling. I had begun to rewrite my script and to view myself with different eyes. I wrote this on March 9, 2007:

(struggling through tears) I am an authentic being…and a whole self. And I have to recognize what I’m feeling and how things affect me…and when I’m hurt and when I’m angry…and not always just try to feel for other people and try to make them better…

Anger tends to be a mask for something deeper. Umm…it’s an indication that you’re feeling something but there’s usually something beyond that—umm…rejection, misunderstanding, something deeper so…be able to think through the anger and understand what I’m feeling. I mostly feel rejected and used and…like I don’t matter.

There’s a difference between throwing out a lifeline and jumping in and drowning with a person. Usually, you always throw in the…the line first, umm…try to pull somebody out and keep your own identity before you actually jump in with the person and kind of become as one with them. It’s the same thing with a pit—when you jump into a pit with a person and identify with them then you lose yourself and it’s harder for you to be able to get yourself out of the pit. And I tend to…jump in with people and become that person and identify with the person…rather than throwing in a lifeline.

Jesus was pretty good at taking care of himself. He went off by himself and surrounded himself with friends and laughed and ate and drank and…took care of himself so that he could be the best for everybody else.

Taking care of other people is second nature to me. I probably learned it a really long time ago—just to always take care of the other person rather than thinking about what I’m feeling.

Maybe part of the reason that I get wrapped up in other people’s lives—and try to influence or control what they do…is because I feel like they’re worth it while I feel like I’m not. Maybe I identify with other people…because…I feel like there’s an emptiness inside of me…that says that I’m not worth working on—that I’m not worth taking care of ultimately—that I should take care of other people because they have more to give and more to offer than I do.
Now read the words to the song that emerged that Wednesday night. I was far from believing these words when I wrote them…yet they were my declaration of becoming…whole.

Whole

A cloud of yellow comes and settles on my soul
Replacing sheets of white—cold
Nature has been waiting for this yellow on my soul
Agonizing in the pains of death

Tender, warm, new buds they bloom and yellow floods my soul
Bitter, stale the old passes away
My throat is scratchy from the yellow on my soul
My words are hoarse from the dark night

But listen now: this is my voice
It’s bursting into life
Singing with the colors of our God…

Three short months extended into countless draining years
Deceiving lies leading astray
Destructive screaming from this world created chaos here
Whispers of the truth could not be heard

But listen now: this is my voice
This is who I am
Created in the image of our God
Loved not for the things I do
But loved for who I am
And who I am learning to be

I’m not perfect—I will fail
But I believe in God’s grace
I am gifted and unique
I am worthy of God’s grace
I’m authentic—I’m okay
And I stand upon God’s grace
I’m on a journey—not alone
I’m a member of God’s grace

So listen now: this is my voice
This is who I am
Created in the image of our God
Loved not for the things I do
But loved for who I am
And who I am learning to be

Yes, listen now: this is my voice
It’s bursting into life
Singing with the colors of our God…

A cloud of yellow comes and settles on my soul
Replacing broken sheets—whole…
God...Thank you for transformation. And thank you for making brokenness whole.