“All your faults make you more beautiful” ~ Dia Frampton
Emily’s recent three-and-half-hour dance recital had the usual performances. From the four-year-olds wiggling their arms and legs to Mickey Mouse’s Birthday Party; to my daughter’s jazz class rocking it to Glam; to the high school students delivering an energetic interpretation of Dream On, the recital had something for everybody.
Mixed in between the expected, was an unexpected performance that felt like was choreographed for me.
The high school-aged students returned to the stage wearing black t-shirts, but with different words printed on each dancer’s shirt.
Standing expressionless, the dancers coordinated their movements to the lyrics of The Broken Ones by Dia Frampton:
I know they’ve hurt you bad
Why hide the scars you have
Baby let me straighten out your broken bones
All your faults to me make you more beautiful
I can’t help it I love the broken ones
the ones who need the most patching up
the ones who never been loved
never been loved
never been loved enough
Maybe I see a part of me in them
The missing piece always trying to fit in
the shattered heart hungry for a home
no you’re not alone
I love the broken ones
Hearing these words…
Maybe we can rip off the bandage.
Maybe you will see it for what it is.
Maybe we can burn this building,
Holding you in.
…the dancers removed their outer shirts to reveal a white t-shirt that displayed the same word printed on each one.
The word was Perfect.
Sitting in the Kansas City Music Hall on that long Sunday night, I saw parts of me in those words. But through God’s healing grace, I’m learning to bring down the walls that have held me in for too long – walls that have kept me from seeing my own beauty, worth and dignity.
I’m learning to rip off the bandages so I can show the world what lives underneath; I’m learning that being perfectly me is more than enough.
Sometimes the simple path to healing the broken ones begins by recognizing the words you see others wear have also been worn by you. And then in one beautifully choreographed move, the lies can be replaced by the truth.
As the song ended, I said two prayers.
The first prayer was for the four-year-olds who so innocently jumped, twisted and danced earlier. I prayed they would never have to rip off any bandages.
When the recital was over, Mary Beth and I had flowers waiting for Emily. We told her how amazingly she danced.
My second prayer was for my daughter.
I prayed she would know just one word – the one closest to her heart that reveals her beautiful truth.
Special Note: Click here to listen to Dia Frampton’s The Broken Ones.
What is A Simple Path?
This post is in A Simple Path, a twice-weekly series of short pieces inspired by my own life experiences. Each post is a simple path to experiencing something wonderful: maybe seeing life from a different perspective, or celebrating its beauty. Click here to read all posts in the series.