The Mudroom published the following piece (they also included my recent video, which was a nice surprise)! Use link below to read the whole thing!
"...Our relationship revolved around music since the day we met when I joined the band that Paul was in. Still in the friend zone, I started traveling around with him to local churches to do concerts or lead worship. On one of our first unofficial dates, we sang at a dark and dingy open mic in a basement bar called Middle Earth. We spent our afternoons playing music or listening to it while we wrote papers for school. Every time I arrived at his parents’ house, he’d hear me coming and the airy intro of DMB’s “Dream Girl” would drift down the staircase as I made my way up to his room.
Paul started wearing earplugs to church two years after we got married. Soon, we stopped watching TV and spending time with friends. Even the quietest sounds hurt his ears, like me talking or the hum of the refrigerator. We whispered. He not only stopped playing guitar, but he also stopped listening to music altogether. No more impromptu dance parties in the kitchen or rides to the ocean with the windows down, tunes blasting from the stereo.
My favorite things, and his, faded into a distant memory. He had to wear earplugs to use the sink or ride in the car, but with his ears plugged, his own voice was too loud inside his head. So, we drove everywhere in silence. Utter silence. My grief quickly turned to resentment and the air between us started to feel heavy and thick. Suffocating.
As his panic and anxiety grew, I lost sight of the person I’d married. All the things we’d been before were gone. My confusion and sadness did not lead me to compassion, but to anger. Every day I felt like I was drowning in loneliness and despair. Paul’s experience, I am certain, was even worse. Nine years passed before he was diagnosed with a Traumatic Brain Injury...." READ THE WHOLE PIECE AT THE MUDROOM LINK BELOW
Elsbeth Elisha lives in Midcoast Maine with her husband, Paul. She loves Jesus, people, music, and mud-season in Vermont. She loves to dance in her living room to DMB and The Be Good Tanyas. Her hope is that sorrowfulbutrejoicing will offer hope, healing, and a sense of belonging for those who live in the tension between the light of Christ and the darkness of long-term suffering, grief, and pain.