I’m beginning to realize why I’ve faced as many attacks as I have in my life. It was the enemy’s attempt at silencing the greatest weapon that God has ever given to me…my voice. Some people forced me to shut my mouth while the stain of devastating trauma convinced me that I had nothing of worth to say. Depression caused me to internalize every agony and apathy caused me to force my feelings deeply underground. It was the only way that I knew to survive. Keep my head low, keep my mouth shut, swallow adverse emotions and smile falsely with gritting teeth.
I learned to keep what was left of my voice under guarded lock and key, attached with a note that said “Incredibly fragile, handle with care”. I cradled it like a baby and deemed it the only sense of self that I had left that was truly mine. I held that little voice so tightly to my chest, curling my back over it so that it couldn’t be blinded by the sun, hovering over it like an anxious mother over her first child. I held it so tightly that, ultimately, it never got the chance to fully mature. My voice never got the opportunity to operate effectively- learning to articulate itself and stand on its own two feet. And now finally, at thirty years old, I have opened my hands to see the little voice box that I had been guarding and the state of its condition. And there it laid… limp… fingerprints about its neck and winded lungs where all of the air had been pressed out.
I had gripped it so tightly, out of fear, that I had inadvertently helped the enemy, along with the grief of the trials of life, to silence it. I had crushed my already crippled voice.
But I choose THIS day to allow God to breathe the breath of life back into these my vocal chords. I choose today to open my mind and my heart to the weighty worth of the voice that God has given me. Though its legs may be shaky and its strength may be weak, I am walking in faith trusting that God will heal my voice as I go.
The strength of my voice, backed by Christ’s supernatural power, may scare even me but I will cry as loud as my God allows. It is time for the caged bird to hear the beauty of her song against the winds of open air.
I’m beginning to realize why I’ve faced as many attacks as I have in my life. It was the enemy’s attempt at silencing the greatest weapon that God has ever given to me…my voice. Some people forced me to shut my mouth while the stain of devastating trauma convinced me that I had nothing of worth to say. Depression caused me to internalize every agony and apathy caused me to force my feelings deeply underground. It was the only way that I knew to survive. Keep my head low, keep my mouth shut, swallow adverse emotions and smile falsely with gritting teeth.
I learned to keep what was left of my voice under guarded lock and key, attached with a note that said “Incredibly fragile, handle with care”. I cradled it like a baby and deemed it the only sense of self that I had left that was truly mine. I held that little voice so tightly to my chest, curling my back over it so that it couldn’t be blinded by the sun, hovering over it like an anxious mother over her first child. I held it so tightly that, ultimately, it never got the chance to fully mature. My voice never got the opportunity to operate effectively- learning to articulate itself and stand on its own two feet. And now finally, at thirty years old, I have opened my hands to see the little voice box that I had been guarding and the state of its condition. And there it laid… limp… fingerprints about its neck and winded lungs where all of the air had been pressed out.
I had gripped it so tightly, out of fear, that I had inadvertently helped the enemy, along with the grief of the trials of life, to silence it. I had crushed my already crippled voice.
But I choose THIS day to allow God to breathe the breath of life back into these my vocal chords. I choose today to open my mind and my heart to the weighty worth of the voice that God has given me. Though its legs may be shaky and its strength may be weak, I am walking in faith trusting that God will heal my voice as I go.
The strength of my voice, backed by Christ’s supernatural power, may scare even me but I will cry as loud as my God allows. It is time for the caged bird to hear the beauty of her song against the winds of open air.
It is time for me to SING.