I’ve been singing along with the songs on my Favorites playlist while in the car over the last few days. It’s been strange to feel and hear my own voice after not singing at all for over two months.

I sat at the piano for a little while yesterday. While I don’t play well {even after seven years of piano lessons!}, I play enough for my own pleasure. I slowly sight-read a few songs. As my fingers pressed the keys, melodies filled my empty places.

From my earliest memories, music has been my saving grace. My mother taught me early to hum hymns when I was sad or scared or anxious. I still do that, often unconsciously.

Music often expresses emotions for which I cannot find words.

When I sing, when I play piano, when I create music, it’s as if something in me that’s been lying dormant springs back to life. Emotions are stirred which otherwise remain untouched.

Today I’m thankful for the gift of music. I’m thankful for a voice that still sings, for fingers that play unsteadily and for a heart that won’t give up in the silence.