I’ve been broken
Since you left
These shattered pieces I thought would heal
Pierce through my chest
It’s not fine
It’ll never be
So stop saying time will ever comfort me
Oh, I
Am not okay
But I wouldn’t have it any other way
Without this pain
How would I know
That this broken world was never meant to be
My home
There is darkness
On the brightest day
And though there’s beauty here
Sin’s black cloud remains
Here I’m a stranger
But not for long
Cause where I’m going I am known and loved
And I belong
Listen to Still EP: iTunes, Amazon, Spotify
Grief Stage: Acceptance
Home was the first completed song I wrote for Still, before the EP was even a thought. I was trying to reconcile the hope that I was “supposed” to have with the pain that still lingered years later. Little did I know that this song would start the journey into exploring the depths of my grief.
These shattered pieces I thought would heal
Pierce through my chest
It’s not fine
It’ll never be
So stop saying time will ever comfort me
It started out with feeling frustrated - frustrated that I still missed my mom - frustrated that grief was still a “thing” in my life. I was told so many times that “time will heal”, but you know what? It hasn’t. Time has definitely changed how I experience grief, but I have never felt healed. And I don’t think I’m supposed to.
And though there’s beauty here
Sin’s black cloud remains
Throughout the song, I’m describing an important tension that I live with as a person of faith. I see and experience beautiful things in this life, but they are often tainted. These glimpses of hope can be difficult to see through the brokenness.
Without this pain
How would I know
That this broken world was never meant to be
My home
In the crippling pain of grief, the only hope I have - and can offer anyone - is that it won’t be this way forever. I rest in who Jesus is, what he has done, and what he promises to do by one day completely ending the brokenness of the world. This life is so short compared to eternity, and I’m thankful that I’ll have eternity to spend with my mom and our Creator.
We were made for so much more. Pain is a reminder that I’m not home yet.