Hope Through Brokenness: “The Night” (Track 3)
Blog Post by Kurt Scobie
July 29, 2012
www.kurtscobie.com/blogs
Can you breathe?
Can you move?
Can you see how many fingers I’m holding up?
The baby’s fine
Hold my hands
And blink twice if you understand
We are all wrecked. We’re battered. Broken. Beaten. After the impact, all we can do is ask “Am I alive?” “Am I ok?” The world moves on, it seems, and we’re just... in shock. All we can do is sit. And stare.
It happened fast
When you crashed
The other driver walked away without a scratch
And no one spoke
And faces cried
With tears that come from deeper than eyes
The song “Breakeven” by The Script says “when a heart breaks, no it don’t break even”. When we’re broken, all we can see is our own brokenness. Everyone else is fine. The guy in the other car walked off the scene untouched and all we can think to do is cry.
And your mama prayed
And your daddy’s heart stopped beating
And all anyone else can do is pray. And cry. And hurt for you. All of which seems to be pointless. But... it’s not. What else can be done?
And this is the night
You’ll never forget for the rest of your time
And it hurts right now
And it’s not just your life you saw flash before your eyes
And tonight’s the night you died
And you came back to life
For me and my wife, September 8th (and the 6th) will always be a day we “never forget for the rest of our time”. When we went in for the gender ultrasound on September 6th, 2011, we had no idea that our lives were about to change, forever. We were blindsided when the ultrasound revealed that our little girl had no heartbeat. And now “Bella Day” will be every year on her birthday (September 8th) in the Scobie household. The pain we feel isn’t near as strong as those first few months, but the emotional scars we have from going through the loss of our baby will always be there.
These crashes in life bring about a new normal. A part of us dies. A different life is born.
You were out of bed
And off your crutch
When I came by to see how you were holding up
And days turned years
Almost forgot
Your need to heal from the inside out
This is the long stretch. The part we rarely talk about. We love to tell/hear stories about the big moments of failures and the big successes. But what about the in-between space? What about those weeks or months or years of “blah” between the time you fall and the time you’re back at full speed? Those parts usually get paraphrased or skimmed over in stories. But, those “boring parts” are where true growth happens. Healing takes time.
By the way, most of the people who said “Oh my gosh, I am SO sorry” on your Facebook post do not remember, years later, that you even went through such a hard time. True friends continue to check in on you through those “blah” times.
And you are almost strong
Wounds become scars and the weakness is gone
Almost.
This is the night
You’ll never forget for the rest of your time
And it hurts sometimes
But everyone’s talking about how you survived
And tonight’s the night
You died and you came back to life
By the grace of God, the couple I mentioned earlier were reunited and their marriage was saved. My wife and I have seen renewal in our journey as well. But those moments, “the night” we died and came back to life, we will carry with us forever.
Blog Post by Kurt Scobie
July 29, 2012
www.kurtscobie.com/blogs
“Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.” -Plato
I wrote “The Night” a few years ago after I learned that the idea of divorce was lingering in the life of someone I knew. Marriage is hard. And this couple had much to overcome. When I heard that there was a period of separation (with kids involved), I knew that this “crash” would leave a mark.Can you breathe?
Can you move?
Can you see how many fingers I’m holding up?
The baby’s fine
Hold my hands
And blink twice if you understand
We are all wrecked. We’re battered. Broken. Beaten. After the impact, all we can do is ask “Am I alive?” “Am I ok?” The world moves on, it seems, and we’re just... in shock. All we can do is sit. And stare.
It happened fast
When you crashed
The other driver walked away without a scratch
And no one spoke
And faces cried
With tears that come from deeper than eyes
The song “Breakeven” by The Script says “when a heart breaks, no it don’t break even”. When we’re broken, all we can see is our own brokenness. Everyone else is fine. The guy in the other car walked off the scene untouched and all we can think to do is cry.
And your mama prayed
And your daddy’s heart stopped beating
And all anyone else can do is pray. And cry. And hurt for you. All of which seems to be pointless. But... it’s not. What else can be done?
And this is the night
You’ll never forget for the rest of your time
And it hurts right now
And it’s not just your life you saw flash before your eyes
And tonight’s the night you died
And you came back to life
For me and my wife, September 8th (and the 6th) will always be a day we “never forget for the rest of our time”. When we went in for the gender ultrasound on September 6th, 2011, we had no idea that our lives were about to change, forever. We were blindsided when the ultrasound revealed that our little girl had no heartbeat. And now “Bella Day” will be every year on her birthday (September 8th) in the Scobie household. The pain we feel isn’t near as strong as those first few months, but the emotional scars we have from going through the loss of our baby will always be there.
These crashes in life bring about a new normal. A part of us dies. A different life is born.
You were out of bed
And off your crutch
When I came by to see how you were holding up
And days turned years
Almost forgot
Your need to heal from the inside out
This is the long stretch. The part we rarely talk about. We love to tell/hear stories about the big moments of failures and the big successes. But what about the in-between space? What about those weeks or months or years of “blah” between the time you fall and the time you’re back at full speed? Those parts usually get paraphrased or skimmed over in stories. But, those “boring parts” are where true growth happens. Healing takes time.
By the way, most of the people who said “Oh my gosh, I am SO sorry” on your Facebook post do not remember, years later, that you even went through such a hard time. True friends continue to check in on you through those “blah” times.
And you are almost strong
Wounds become scars and the weakness is gone
Almost.
This is the night
You’ll never forget for the rest of your time
And it hurts sometimes
But everyone’s talking about how you survived
And tonight’s the night
You died and you came back to life
By the grace of God, the couple I mentioned earlier were reunited and their marriage was saved. My wife and I have seen renewal in our journey as well. But those moments, “the night” we died and came back to life, we will carry with us forever.