Hello,
I'm Jana,
Your calm companion for music medicine.
Welcome.
This experience has been bathed in prayer.
I am ready.
Are you ready?
Let's enter in together,
Seeking peace over panic.
And asking God.
To provide us with a divine 18-inch drop.
Where all the cognitive information descends into our spirit.
Bringing TRUE lasting recovery and healing.
Enjoy.
I believe.
Help my unbelief.
How can I help?
But believe.
When I see snow.
Falling over the jagged edges of ice Planting all of the ragged ledges of my life.
Oh,
I believe,
Help my unbelief.
How can I help?
But believe When I see snow.
Falling.
Over the jagged edges of ice Planting all of the ragged ledges of my life.
I believe Help my unbelieve How can I help but believe?
When I see snow.
Abide with these lyrics for a moment.
Let them touch you in that place.
Where music goes trauma can feel like we're wearing ice block shoes when everyone else has wings.
Song lyrics.
Help us go down into the theme.
That are difficult to describe in just words.
Would you like to sing with me?
Let's make these lyrics a bit more personal now.
I believe.
Help my unbelief.
How can I help but believe when I see snow?
As you sing now,
It doesn't have to be perfect.
Just activate your own nervous system and let your emotions get involved too.
Here we go.
I'll guide you.
Ready?
And sing.
I believe.
Help my unbelief.
How can I help?
But believe.
When I see snow.
The next part says.
.
.
Falling.
Over the roughest edges of ice.
Let's sing that.
Ready?
Falling over the roughest edges of ice and then we sing Blunting.
All of the jagged ledges.
Of my life ready here.
Planting all of the jagged edges of my life.
Back to I believe.
I believe.
Help my unbelief.
How can I help?
How can I help but believe?
When I see snow.
Trauma recovery sends us very unpredictable icy blasts.
During which we may feel almost no sensation.
And then sometimes numbness or rage.
PTSD can force us to choose a camouflage.
Protect what feels like exposed nerve endings.
Want to emerge from the thawing memories.
We know it's winter because it doesn't feel like we're healing,
Only hibernating.
We want to risk.
Feeling it all.
To reactivate the memories safely.
So that we can thaw them.
And heal.
This emotional snow serves us so well when we need it.
It is indeed a merciful grace.
Until.
We crave spring.
Until we wonder so deeply,
When will I heal?
Where is my breakthrough?
Let's sing about craving spring.
Think about it.
Like a bird.
That hops to the feeder.
Checking to see if there's something inside.
We're hungry.
We want to be fed.
We want to grow and spread our wings.
Let your spirit feel like that.
Take the risk.
To hop to the feeder.
Emotional snow serves us so well.
Until we crave spring.
I like that.
Our spirit.
Hops Out of anonymity.
Growing in the growing light,
Beginning to truly see.
Oh,
I crave spring Help me endure.
I crave the spring.
I pray.
We cannot.
Do this process.
In one day.
In one session of therapy.
Or just one breakthrough.
Although there will be moments.
Where we put our stake in the ground and say,
As of right now,
I am never the same.
Let today be one of those for us.
Take the risk.
To crave spring.
This song has taken four years to write,
Even though it is short.
For almost four years,
It lay under ice.
During the pandemic,
I worked in trauma hospitals.
And I found myself.
Unable to cry anymore.
Feeling very numb.
Can you relate?
I took a retreat to a Benedictine monastery.
Called the House of Prayer in Arkansas.
I was playing in the chapel,
I was playing this song,
And it kept stopping at the word snow,
Which sounded very strange to me.
I believe help my unbelief i would sing over and over how can i help but believe and then come up against the brick wall when I see snow.
It sounded very pretty to me,
But there was nothing.
There.
And I had no frame of reference for it.
I chose to trust.
That even this half-written song could minister.
I let it minister to me.
And you know what?
The tears did flow.
And then I saw a figure.
Darken the outside of the stained glass window.
And I knew another pilgrim was coming to the chapel.
Instead of hiding the half-written song.
I allow to continue ministering.
Stranger.
Came into the chapel.
And she sat.
Listening.
To the song that hit the wall.
When I see snow.
After a while.
.
.
She shared.
That she had a remission of cancer and was in celebration and then.
.
.
Cancer came back.
As she spoke,
She touched her throat and said,
I'm already covered with surgical scars right here and right here.
Do I really have what it takes to endure another emotional winter like that?
God care.
And who will I be with even more scarred tissue on my neck?
I played on.
An unfinished song.
Can still minister.
If you are in the phase where all you can sing is.
Help my unbelief.
Oh,
Please.
Do not stop playing.
Dissociation,
Depression,
These are not unbelief.
Slowly,
This fellow pilgrim of mine revealed,
I had felt so depressed in my hermitage earlier today.
When I was drawn to gaze.
The icon on the wall and I got so close to it it was if I saw it for the first time.
My eyelashes got so close they touched.
Christ.
And I saw on his neck.
Scars.
Then I felt pee.
I was one with my neck-scarred savior.
And if he.
.
.
Had gone there.
And he had gone before me.
I could endure this.
With peace.
Oh,
How her testimony.
Minister to me.
Not the joy of sharing in remission with her.
Delight of a miracle she had received.
But her testimony of faith.
Knowing that Her scars could be reopened and made deeper.
She was one.
With her next guard savior and I.
Wanted to be one with that part of him too.
My unfinished song ministered to her.
Even though I felt stuck in the snowdrifts,
Writing it,
Not thinking it had a meaning for anyone.
But it helped her open up some of her own spiritual scar tissue so that her eyes.
.
.
With her lashes touching the icon of Christ.
Got close enough to see what had been there all along.
Her eyes.
Craved spring.
And God showed it to her.
Do your eyes crave spring?
Let that hunger rise up in you.
If you are going through a winter of trauma recovery.
Where everything feels numb,
Blunted,
Cold and unsafe.
Know that this is not a lack of faith.
This is not equal to unbelief.
Allow peace to descend.
Into your heart.
And the hope.
Of an emotional spring.
You know,
After the retreat I went on.
I didn't think about my silent snow sister.
Until two weeks ago.
When this song decided to come up.
And out of the ice for me.
I suddenly had a chorus.
Falling over the jagged edges of ice.
Blunting all of the ragged ledges of my life.
Oh God,
How this resonated with my heart.
He had sent his snow of mercy to blunt all of the roughest transitions.
The song was dissociated from significance no more,
And it had suddenly become alive.
There was a link,
A divine 18-inch drop.
And as I sing,
May you too feel this hope coming to you now.
Like living water.
That have melted the icy daggers of your most foreboding frozen memories.
Lord,
I pray that during this time of contemplative prayer,
And song.
He would come.
And speak to your daughters.
Deeply Now.
We invite you.
I believe Help my unbelief.
How can I help?
But believe When I see snow.
Your mercy.
Covers the jagged edges of my memories.
Your mercy.
Making the edges.
Oh,
I Believe.
Help me crave the spring.
Melting my memory.
Into life-giving streams.
Do you have some lyrics?
On your heart.
I'll add them for you now.
Head and put them in the chat.
Who I believe Help,
My unbelief.
How can I help?
But believe.
When I see snow falling over the jagged edges of ice.
Lundy.
All of the rugged ledges of my life.
Oh,
I crave spring.
Help me transition.
Ever safely.
So I can feel.
Yes,
Invite.
The feeling again.
Whether it comes through a surge of joy,
Whether it comes through a tear finally breaking through.
To melt the ice.
Let us wait now.
On spring to come to our hearts.
Anticipating the divine 18-inch drop.
As we rest.
Together in contemplative prayer.
Trust.
God.
To compose.
The unwritten lyric of your life.
Right now.
Holy Spirit.
Bring meaning.
To the unwritten lyrics.
Of the lives gathered here.
Break us through.
Out of the winter.
Into the spring Give us the meaning that has been missing.
And as our memories unfreeze themselves.
Blunt them Lord.
Take away their power.
So that we can draw living water.
From them.
Instead of pain.
Minister.
To your children now,
Lord.
Minister to your daughters.
Thank you,
Lord Let's take one more minute of contemplative prayer.
And when you hear the bell,
I'll invite you to say amen.
Amen.
Well done.
Thank you.
For your calm companionship.
Today.
What an honor to serve you in this way.
Let us settle now restfully into the next part.
Of our beautiful Well done.
I would love to be your calm companion on a daily basis.
Neurologically speaking,
Practicing these things daily gets us the most amazing results.
I have three resources for you And a thank you as we pause to say I appreciate your donations.
I think of the women who are seeking and searching for something just like this.
Knowing that this work will stay available for them gives me peace of mind.
And I'm so grateful that you are part of that too.
In your donation.
Thank you.
The resources I'm thinking of.
Our playlists.
Designed with rotating material.
That's therapeutic.
For calm companionship,
They are called.
Peace over panic.
Music medicine.
And calm companions.
You can find them under my profile.
Using these daily,
Such as at your meditation and prayer time,
During SOS moments where you really need panic relief,
And at night.
When your nervous system is gearing down for bed.
Are simply perfect and clinically recommended.
That way,
We can build a relationship together.
Which would be my absolute joy and honor.
Finally.
Check out the retreat.
If you love this one-on-one type of calm companionship care.
And you maybe have been re-traumatized by a hospital experience.
You may find that you enjoy healing more on a retreat.
Of course,
The retreats need to be taken.
With the permission of your doctor and your treatment team,
And they are not a substitute for medical care as indicated.
I invite you to check out my retreat.
I'll see you very soon,
Hopefully tomorrow.
For more calm companionship.
Well done.
