This Body Is Not My Home

“Things were spinnin' 'round me

And all my thoughts were cloudy

And I had begun to doubt all the things that were me...

Somethin' is just not right

'Cause I know that I've gotta get outta here

I'm so alone...

Sometimes you hear something that strikes a cord within you so deep, that is so dead on to how you are or have felt, you wonder how someone got into your brain. Music is one of those things that is at the core of who I am. There is nothing I enjoy more, and there is not a style or type of music I do not like. Very often, you can tell my mood, just by the music I am listening to at that moment.

Yet of all the music I like, 50’s, 60’s, and 70’s is probably my favorite. Recently, I was listening to Jim Croce (an amazing artist), and I heard a song I had not heard in years, and it stopped me dead in my tracks. “New York’s Not My Home” was the song, and as I listened to that first verse, I was stunned.

How did he know how these last few years had felt? The descriptions were “spot-on” to what I experienced daily. “Things were spinnin' 'round me, and all my thoughts were cloudy, and I had begun to doubt all the things that were me…” The last 4 years had felt, and sometimes still do feel this way. 

As my body declined and this disease took hold, I watched so many things “spinning” out of control. So often, I felt like there was this fog in my mind that clouded everything I was trying to do, and it would make everything more challenging. 

But that 3rd line, it really hit me between the eyes and highlighted one of the biggest parts of my struggle, “I had begun to doubt all the things that were me…”. In some ways, that has continued. Everything I thought I knew about myself, everything that I was, over the past 3 years has changed – nothing looks like it did, or even what I thought it would look like. Everything that I thought defined me seemed to be stripped away.

With that change, daily doubt was a battle I fought, and still struggle with. Once so sure of myself and my abilities, I found myself questioning many things I previously took for granted – memory, actions, reactions, abilities, career, and on and on the list could go. Once so sure of my path, abilities, and future, I fought with doubt for all of these areas. As Jim said later in the song, “Something is just not right.” 

As the song continues, he says, “It has been so long since I have felt fine, that's the reason that I've gotta get outta here, I'm so alone…”. Another phrase that hit me between the eyes, for I could not remember a time I felt fine, and that more than anything, made me feel so all alone. 

Because of these feelings, I often yearned for escape from this prison, this body that I felt I was trapped in. This body that housed me had become a prison; a prison of pain, loneliness, doubt, and ultimately, life no longer felt right. Have you ever felt this?

In the song, Jim talks about simply leaving New York, yet that was not an option for me. It was then that I realized, my mind and spirit, not my body, was truly my home. Yes, this shell might be broken, but it did not mean my mind and spirit had to be. And that is where Jim found himself. Whether in New York or not, his spirit had been broken. If he left New York, or if he stayed, he ultimately had to choose if he would allow his spirit to be broken. 

That was my choice – would I allow my broken body to break my spirit? I could choose to live in my body – broken and failing, or I could choose to live in my spirit and in hope. I could choose to retain hope in the face of these new challenges, or let my broken circumstances break my spirit as Jim was experiencing in this song – and honestly, it is something I battled and experienced more often than I would care to admit. Would I focus on the brokenness of my circumstances, or focus on these promises:

Psalm 16:9 “Therefore my heart is glad…my flesh will also rest in hope.”

Psalm 39:7 “My hope is in you.”

Psalm 71:5 “For you are my hope, O Lord God; You are my trust from my youth.”

Is this body broken? Yes. Do I still doubt myself? Yes. Do I feel fine? No. Do things feel right? No. Do I feel alone often? Yes. Does this have to be my home – does this have to be where I live daily? No. I choose, and today, at least, I choose for my hope to be in Him; not in my body, but in my heart, soul, spirit, and mind, which HE is renewing daily.