My Broken Hallelujah

I’ve found myself trying to listen to Christian music more. But every time I listen to it I just end up crying. I end up crying because a lot of the songs are…it’s like they’re speaking to me. 

I’ve always been a fan of The Afters. I’ve liked their stuff before because there’s a been a few songs that aren’t so …you wouldn’t know that it’s a song about faith. Anyways, as I mentioned, I’ve been trying to listen to Christian music and I came across their song “My Broken Hallelujah.” 

When I heard it, I just wept for a good 15 minutes because it’s everything that I’ve been dealing with. With the struggle of reaching for God, of letting him take charge of my life, of not knowing whether or not he actually here’s my broken hallelujah (prayer). 

Sometimes I don’t know what to say. As the song says

“I don’t always know what to say. But you’re the one that can hear my heart. And even though I don’t know what your plan is. I know you make beauty from these ashes. I’ve seen joy and I’ve seen pain. On my knees, I call your name. Here’s my broken hallelujah.”

I don’t understand why it’s such a struggle for me to give my life to him with no questions or doubts.  I know that I need him and that without him I wouldn’t be here. I want to find a church that I can feel safe to go to. I’m a…very honest person, sometimes too honest for my own good. I don’t necessarily play nice with others all the time and when it comes to people in the church…well, let’s say that after my experience as a child growing up in the church, I don’t have the greatest view on them and it’s congregations. Growing up in a Spanish (I don’t speak it) and English church where everyone knew each other and or somehow related to each other, whether it be second/third cousins or tia/tio’s twice removed kind of stuff….It didn’t sit well with me especially with the people who I saw and observed without them realizing it. 

That kind of dampened my view on church in general. I was forced to go every Sunday as a kid…And at first it wasn’t a big deal. I enjoyed it. I went because I truly believed. I went because I found joy in it. I was involved in something called “Missionettes”…But as I got older and my views on things changed and I got terribly sick. But even then, the girls who were in it made fun of me and made me feel bad. Their parents thought they were angels. If they only knew. I didn’t understand…why me? Why was I the one going through this…endless hospital visits. Why was I the one having to endure the pain? This didn’t just affect me. It happened to my family. I can’t get too mad at my brothers for somewhat resenting me. I know they love me and were extremely worried about me during that time, but I know that they also didn’t get the supervision and parenting they needed because of me. My parents were too busy with taking me to doctor appointments, staying overnight at the hospital…and still having to go to work. Well, my two older brothers basically took care of themselves. 

Because my mindset changed and I got older and I got better..I couldn’t understand things..I got negative and independent. I didn’t want to deal with the hypocrisy I saw in church. When I turned 18…I was working at a nursing home. I had a few older friends from there and they invited me to a party and let me drink. I got a slight tipsy. And I got a call from my brother to go pick him up (I could drive!) I drove. Nothing happened. We got home safely. He didn’t know I had any alcohol. The thing is, I made the mistake of writing a letter to “John” (see previous posts on him) while he was in the army about the night. Somehow my mom found that letter and confronted me. I wasn’t going to fight it. She grounded me. But to get back at my mom, I told her I wasn’t going to church anymore. That I haven’t wanted to go for a long time and that the only reason I went was because she forced me to attend. It broke her heart. But it was for me that I needed to do it. I have never looked back. I go once in a year to show my mom support on mother’s day or Christmas. 

I want to go to church. I know I shouldn’t let past experiences influence how I see them today, but it does. Plus, when I’m in church, I’m much more shy than usual because I feel they stare and know what kind of person I am…They know I cuss, have done some terrible things..I feel like they just know. 

That’s why the song speaks to me. That somehow my “horribleness” is known to God but he’s not telling anyone and he’s trying to still listen. Listen to how I am, how I feel, how even though I feel like I’m a bad person, he’s telling me otherwise. He’s listening to my broken hallelujah


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