And the music stopped

What is it about music that can make it speak directly to your situation, your soul and your emotions? Music has always played an important role in my life. A specific song coming on the radio can bring back nostalgia of good memories, that summer spent underneath the stars, timeless memories. Music played a huge role in our journey with Malachi. Singing songs of praise to God became the way I coped with the good days and the bad days; when I couldn't utter another word of prayer because I was too weak, music held up my prayers to heaven as I raised my arms to my King. As a previous post mentioned, the Bethel Music album “You Make Me Brave” became my anthem album for our journey. Songs of hope and thankfulness on the days we celebrated, songs of inspiration and encouragement on the not so good days; it felt like every song on that album touched a point in our journey in a special way. And then it happened, the day the music stopped. When Malachi passed away I couldn't bear to listen to the songs I had spent hours listening to in praise and hope that he would come home to us. My heart broke with every chord and word that reflected our hearts desire for our son, that we never saw fulfilled. I couldn't bear to listen to it after he passed. It felt like promises that weren't fulfilled, a life that wasn't returned to us. How could I sing in joy and praise when my son was gone. Since he passed I haven’t been able to turn the radio on, in fear a song will play that will release the floodgates of tears, that are barely held shut as it is. I have only listened to music when played in another vehicle. Even then I tend to tune it out. Our first time back at church after Malachi passed away we made it in time for worship; worship has always been my favorite part of service, but admittedly we rarely make it on time. I didn't know how I would feel when the songs began to play….fast paced songs of praise were easy…the slower, more intimate songs of worship and love were the hardest. How do I praise Him in the most painful of tragedy a mother can experience? Tears fill my eyes as I began to sing, choked by them, all I could do was raise my hands and let my tears fall to the feet of the throne room and fall to the one who can take my anger, my pain and my tears. Praising him in the storm. Choosing to praise him in the storm. In singing the songs of worship, love and adoration I had to make a choice to continue seeing God that way. It has tested my thoughts of who God really is. Sure, I can repeat the platitudes of He is good all the time, all the time He is good, but when faced with the ultimate of heartbreak it remains my choice to believe and trust that His nature remains consistent even in the midst of my circumstance. I was faced with “do I really believe this, with my whole heart, with everything within me; that He is good?” It was my choice to answer Yes or No. This yes is the hardest yes I have ever had to say. I cannot lower my thoughts of who God is to match my pain, if I do that it undermines everything I have ever believed of His nature. I believe I can ask Him why, ask Him to show me beauty in the tragedy and ask him to put the pieces of my heart back together. Even when it is impossible to voice the songs of praise and love, I can still raise my hands to Him and He knows my heart and meets me where I am. I recently downloaded the new album from Steffany Gretzinger titled “The Undoing”….and I listened to it. The first album I have purposefully listened to since losing Malachi. Every song has touched my heart in the place of grief I am in and on my way to healing. Intimate songs of worship to a King who I believe is good in all things. An album that has met me where I am in this journey, but gives hope to the healing ahead. Music is a powerful thing. The soundtrack of life, good and downright awful.