The House That Built Me

I have heard people say that Music is the Language of heaven and I would have to agree. There have been too many times in my life that I have heard a song that somehow communicated a meaning to my soul deeper than words alone could have.

Today I had one of those experiences. I was driving and Miranda Lamberts song, "The House That Built Me" came on the radio. (Feel free to look it up on Youtube....hearing it makes a difference) I have heard that song countless times before and always liked it because of its sound, but never really connected to it. Today was different. As I listened to the story behind the song as well as the words I was touched by the thoughts that came up. It was as though these thoughts were being placed in my brain rather than my brain creating the thoughts.

The story is about a woman who takes quite a drive to get to her old house that she grew up in. She is feeling lost and broken and is searching, yearning, aching, for some sense of the self she used to know. She goes to her old house out of desperation, singing, "I thought if I could touch this place or feel it, this brokenness inside of me might starting healing. Out here it's like I'm someone else, I thought that Maybe I could find myself.... if I could just come in, I swear I'll leave, Won't take nothing but a memory from the house that built me." I realized that I fit this girls story in my own way.

I have little emotional attachment to any specific house I lived in growing up, but I have that exact same attachment to that girl that I used to be....before. I moved to Utah a happy-go-lucky, simple little girl and I came home a deeply emotionally destroyed wretch. Not only was I treated poorly, but I also changed myself so I could cope with my situation more easily. I eventually learned to numb every ounce of myself so I couldn't feel anything. You see, if you can't feel at all then you can't feel pain and it's worth it. Not feeling anything, even the spirit seemed a small price to pay for never having to feel the complete lack of hope and total despair.  So when came home I had some of those some feelings as our girl from the story. I felt like when I was here, in tricities before, I was someone else. I wasn't that broken weak girl that I had become. I wanted her back, so I came back.....but to what? What was my "House that built me" so to speak? What was it that could remind me of who I was and fill that emptiness? She is trying to fill her emptiness and fix her brokenness by visiting a house in hopes that it will remind her of who she is. In hopes that it will give her a sense of self back. So what is it for me? I was searching for that distant person, but where could I turn? Where could I look?

And then it hit me. I happened to be on my way to the temple while this whole thought process was taking place. It was to be my first time back to the temple in around 9 months, give or take. At one point after moving back home the temple had become my safe haven. It had become a place that I went weekly to commune with my father in heaven. There was nothing I loved more than being in the celestial room, that peaceful beautiful, quiet and perfect room, praying my soul out, often crying my heart out. It was the one place that I felt like I could pray and receive answers to my prayers and actually trust them. I had come from a rough emotional place and was building back my faith in my father in heaven week by week. And then life hit. My schedule changed, I started school, and suddenly time for the temple was few and far between. And slowly I started losing all that ground I had worked so hard to gain. I was lost. Without going into too much detail, for several months I didn't have a recommend. I COULDN'T go to the temple. It was a hopeless and helpless feeling. "You leave home, you move on and you do the best you can. I got lost in this whole world and forgot who I am"  Well it has been a long hard road, but tonight, for the first time in way way too long, I was on my way to the temple.

And Those are the circumstances this song found me in. This poor girl, in her story is searching desperately for the emptiness and coldness and brokenness inside her to heal. I have been so broken and so empty and cold. And, like her, I was going back to the house that built me. The house of the Lord. "I thought if I could touch this place or feel it, this brokenness inside me might start healing. Out here it's like I'm someone else, I thought that maybe I could find myself. If I could just come in, I swear I'll leave, won't take nothing but a memory from the house that built me......" All of the sudden the song holds so much more meaning. I know I can't ever go back and be that little girl again. I can't be that carefree teenager. I can't change where I have been. I am a divorced, single mother of twins.I can't be that little girl sitting on daddy's lap without a care in the world again. I can't go back to THAT house that built me. But I CAN become rebuilt in HIS House. I can become a peaceful being in HIS house.  I can build my testimony and faith continually. I can become a strong woman of courage. I may not be able to get the old girl back, but something tells me the one I will end up being will be far better. Step. By. Step.