Broken Hallelujah

I can't ever get through this song without tears.

Without goosebumps.

Without imagining every word.

Without wanting to fall straight to my knees.

Today, I found myself craving.

Longing.

Missing.

I found myself a little more broken.

Pieces scattered everywhere.

Crushed under the weight of the world.

Suffocating under the heaviness of uncertainty.

Heartbroken at the lack of normal during this holiday season.

So, once the house was quiet, everyone asleep; I fell into the song. I let it fill every ounce of my soul. Over. And over and over and over again.

And for whatever reason, I couldn't shake the words. The actual words.

Words wrapped in such beautiful irony.

Words that present completely opposite definitions, yet that come together in such a magnificently bittersweet way.

"It's a cold and broken hallelujah."

If those words don't represent this past year-and-a-half, I don't know what words do.

Hallelujah.

A word typically reserved for celebrations. A word to reserve for those climactic moments. A word that encompasses so much joy, you simply can't resist but release it from your lips.

But, this year?

Have you even thought about the word?

Let-alone spoken it aloud?

I can honestly say, I don't think I have.

I don't think I have felt like that this year.

A moment when I just felt so completely overpowered; a moment when I simply wanted to open my mouth, toss my arms in the air, grab a hold of the beautiful blessing before me and shout, "Hallelujah! Blessed is His name."

Because our world?

Broken seems much more appropriate.

Broken hearts.

Broken patience.

Broken plans.

Plain-and-simply broken.

A broken Hallelujah.

How many of those have I released from my lips this year? How many broken hallelujahs has the entire world spoken, this year?

The quiet ones.

The ones on bended-knee.

The ones wrapped in tears.

The ones enveloped in His grace.

The ones mumbled through broken tears.

The ones whispered once our heads

hit the pillow.

The exhausted exhalation simply for

making it through another day.

The ones simply released by our weary hearts;

without a word leaving our lips.

For simply surviving.

The broken hallelujah.

"Thank you, Heavenly Father, for getting me through this."

Unplanned.

Ordinary.

Meek.

Humble.

Pride-swallowing.

Because, life?

Life is heavy.

Life is hard.

Life is chaotic.

Life is unplanned.

But we still break bread.

And, we still give thanks.

We still say "Hallelujah!"

It may be unspoken.

It may be wrapped in a flood of fearful tears.

But, it is our way to show that we still believe God is faithful. It is our way to show that we still trust Him, because we are His.

Through the loss;

Through the greatness;

Through the rejoicing;

Through the laments;

Through the successes;

Through the indescribable sorrows;

Through the fleeting;

And through the promise of the eternal;

...comes the hallelujah.

Maybe our hallelujahs are more broken this year than ever before, but may we find ways to still seek His goodness. Because God's promises to us, His children?

We will never find them broken.

For between the exhilarating hallelujah of life falling together, and the broken hallelujah of life falling apart, lies our faith in Him.

"I did my best, it wasn't much;

I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch;

I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you;

And even though it all went wrong,

I'll stand before the Lord of Song,

With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah."