Feeding My Soul

I find myself struggling with this particular post tonight.  A few weeks ago I decided to respond to an invitation by author Bonnie Gray to write weekly posts based on prompts that she would post.  The first one was easy enough when the prompt was to share about your One Word for 2015.  The next one however was an invitation to go a little deeper.  Share what feeds your soul.  

Honestly, I've tried to not ask that question too much.  It feels like its just too painful.  You see what feeds my soul often ends up being the thing that brings me the most pain.  I realized tonight as I listened to the house around me while taking time out that in the kitchen my husband was playing Gregorian chants while in the nursery my little diva who cannot settle for any "normal" baby music had the soundtrack from Sense and Sensibility playing that the two complimented one another very well.  Just listening to the blend of the two I began to relax.  You see I love music.  I took piano lessons for years, taught myself to play the guitar and to balance the stressfulness of nursing school I took voice lessons.

When I was younger I knew the exact song to pull out when I needed to literally pound on the piano to relieve frustration and I knew the selections of songs that would "make everything better" when I was sad  Music was the way I relieved stress, the way I celebrated, the way I connected to God.

  Unfortunately, music isn't really much of a part of my life right now.  I'm hiding from it right now because it hurts.  I don't play anymore.  I haven't touched an instrument since last April.  On occasion I'll sing, but it's kind of rare. 

I think tonight as I reflect on that question: What feeds your soul?  I find myself struggling to be honest about why I'm not allowing my soul to be fed.  The truth, I look at a keyboard and hear the voice in my head reminding me that I'm only ok at playing the piano.  I look at the guitar and hear another voice reminding me I never took the first lesson.  I think about the stacks of music that I own and keep myself from singing by the voice that says you're ok, but not even close to the best.  

The funny thing about the power of words is that they can become your reality.  What I hear in the words of the past is that I'm not good enough, others are better and in my head if that's true then God doesn't want my less than acceptable offering and He certainly doesn't want that to be what feeds me so I look for something else.  I suppose in a way it makes me a bit like Cain.  I know that you created me to be fed in this way, God, but here would you settle for making this work?  I'm more comfortable with this one.  

Of course when I'm trying to convince God that this other way is how my soul needs to be fed, I'm working really hard at that.  Working hard when Jesus invitation is "come to me and I will give you rest".  On the other hand if I can learn to embrace the way my soul is fed, I get to experience that rest.  It's an inviting thought and maybe embracing it comes in small steps starting with Gregorian chants and soundtracks to Jane Austen movies.