I don’t sing in church. I am a Christian anomaly I think. I rarely tune in to music though I enjoy it. I appreciate hymns and worship music and understand their importance but I am rarely openly engaged in any song.

I used to sing a little. Then Jake died and with him died his sweet voice and the sound of his baby Taylor strings. For three years I literally hated music. All of it tormented my soul terribly bringing waves of grief when I heard it. March 25th 2014 was the day the music died in me.

I used to feel like there is something missing in me. Like my worship is incomplete, my joy is not full. Like my praise toward God was obstructed because those things never reached my vocal cords and tongue in song.

I feel differently about that now.

Praise and worship time for me in church is worshipful but not expressed outwardly like most. I hum along, I listen to the congregation, I pray, I consider the words being sung. I worship, I give thanks.

Music is no longer a problem with me. Well, that’s not entirely true. I actually downloaded Spotify on my phone last week. Jake loved the Avett brothers and their hit “No hard feelings” come up and it broke me again. But the pain I feel in those moments is mixed with happiness now. There was a time when all I felt was sorrow.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tFGs7HP15d4&pp=ygUQbm8gaGFyZCBmZWVsaW5ncw%3D%3D

It’s been ten years since our last thanksgiving together as a family.

I am thankful for the song that boy put in all our hearts.

I am thankful to God for mending our hearts also and restoring a song in my soul. Albeit not not expressed outwardly but inwardly in my hidden place of worship.

It’s thanksgiving day and I am thankful. God put a song in my heart, it’s there, you just might not hear it from my pew.

I will praise the name of God with a song; I will magnify him with thanksgiving.

Psalm 69:30