Hurt

A friend posted this video on Facebook yesterday.  I love the song, the raw honesty of Johnny Cash's voice, the layers of meaning and experience.

Today, it is one of those songs I want to play over and over again.  It captures the way I feel.  Resonates.  Even the "You stay the hell away from me.  You here?"  


It's not where I will land, but it is where I am at the moment.


Somehow, I have learned over time that it is not okay to feel, that I should suppress my negative emotions.  I am relearning now how to acknowledge that the feelings exist and to genuinely feel them.  It is scary.  It takes time.  I fear the feelings will spiral out of control. 


But I've been here before.  I think I'm beginning to trust myself, that though I will sink into the depth of the feelings, I will not wallow.  Not for long, at least.




If I could start again, a millions miles away.  I would keep myself.  I would find a way.


The song stirs up memories too.  Young Johnny Cash reminds me of my paternal grandpa, who always scared me a little.  My dad is a good dad, especially considering where he came from.


It reminds me too of when I first heard the song almost five years ago.  A group of high school dancers performed to it at our church.  I was a guest speaker that morning and it was the first time I'd spoken in a few years.  The previous time had been at another church and was disastrous.  It wasn't poorly executed; it was just too polished.  This time around, I was nervous to speak again, wanting to redeem myself, sorting through the hurt of that past "failure."  


Our church was in the middle of a series on The Lord's Prayer, and my topic was "Forgive us our sins."  I began the sermon quoting some of the song lyrics:  "and you could have it all/ my empire of dirt/ I will let you down/ I will make you hurt."  


We don't typically think of Nine Inch Nails, the song's original performers, as theologians, but what they've written sounds to me like a deeply honest confession of sin, one I can relate to.


Dallas Willard defines confession of sin as saying to God and perhaps to others, "This is how I really am." 


This song is how I really am.  I hurt.  I cause it.  I feel it.  Right now, I really feel it.


Interestingly, when I watched the video yesterday, it locked up on the shot of Christ's agonized expression, a crown of thorns on his head.  I restarted the video; it stopped there again.  The same thing happened a third time.  If the video plays normally, the face shot is briefer than a blink.  I'm not entirely sure what to make of that, though I have some ideas.  


But I will not moralize or guilt myself into good-Christian thoughts.  I will allow myself to feel God-created feelings that are good, even in a fallen world.  This is not where I will land, but it is where I am at the moment.  And moments, regardless of their tone, are worth experiencing and in their own way celebrating.