The Day the Music Lived
"Sometimes the world tries to knock it out of you, but I believe in music the way some people believe in fairy tales."
-August Rush
I don't know when the music died in my heart.
Maybe it died a little bit the first time someone told me my music was "too contemporary for church."
Maybe it was when a "well-meaning Christian" told me that I shouldn't sing about faith until mine was stronger.
Perhaps I believed the lies of the Enemy that I was too flawed, too damaged, to share my songs of faith with others.
Could it be that I was told too many times that I needed to take some time off from music because of chronic illness?
It's possible that the loneliness of being housebound day after day, feeling forgotten by the world, began to eat away at the music.
Did I let the fear that my illnesses would be a distraction to the worship of others cause my lips to be still, my voice to be hushed?
But I am a worshiper. I have the heart of a worshiper. With all my faults, my weaknesses, and my failures, God has gifted me to praise Him and lead others to praise Him. I will keep silent no longer. I will not let the rocks cry out in praise to God in my place.
There is a silent place in my corner of the world that needs to be filled with the sounds of uninhibited, reckless worship to my Savior. And I will use my voice.
"I will sing to the LORD all my life; I will sing praise to my God as long as I live." -Psalm 104:33
