Guest blogger: Anonymous

Today’s post is written by an anonymous member of NewLife. As we go through the Psalms, I would love to have some guest writers share about how God uses music to minister to you, or specific songs that help you in your relationship with God. Contact me if you are interested.
“Hear my cry, O God; listen to my prayer. From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I.” (Psalm 61:1-2)

When I read Pastor Eric's request for people to write in and share about songs that have impacted them, I felt a nudge in my spirit. It was the kind of nudge that makes my heart race, my hands grow sweaty, and makes my mind flood with foreboding thoughts that if I were to follow through then surely I will embarrass myself. It's safer to close off my heart to avoid the hurt that transparency can welcome. I thought, “No thanks, Lord.  I don't want to.” Then felt His reply, “You don't have to... but this is a good thing.” I started to reflect and write and make the connections that those two things sometimes bring about.  In the end I came up with the following:

Looking back upon my life, I see how sometimes songs have been my Ebenezer (see 1 Sam.7:12):  I lift them up in praise marking and remembering how the Lord has rescued me. Sometimes, though, songs are the cry of my heart that I'm unable to put into words myself. They are a longing to believe – to bridge the gap between what my head knows to be true and what my heart longs to be true. They are an echo of the father (in Mark 9:24) desperately asking Jesus to heal his son and declaring, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” I can think of specific songs in my life marking times of deep sadness, grief, trials overcome, and even in the waiting of trials endured.  Sometimes it's the enduring that is the greatest victory.

The past year has been difficult. It's been hard in a way I have never walked through before.

It's been dark and lonely. It's been full of questions, heaviness, hurt and confusion. The loneliness of it all has been surprising to me because I have been surrounded by my loving family and friends. But, maybe you've met this darkness, too. Maybe you know how it can settle over you, squeezing out your breath, and muddying everything around you so that nothing is as it should be.

I think it is why I've been so drawn to Laura Story's song “He Will Not Let Go.”
 
                                    There may be days when I cannot breathe
                                    There may be scars that will stay with me
                                    But the deepest stains they will be washed clean
                                    And He will not let go

These words are helping me to walk through a tangled web of painful memories from my past. They point me to Jesus and urge me to keep my eyes on Him. They are a powerful reminder of His love and His faithfulness.

Those jagged and ripping memories, I thought, had been put behind me 16 years ago when Jesus overwhelmed me with His love and I became His follower. But, I was mistaken. Those memories weren't dead and buried. They were alive and slowly devouring me from the inside-out.  I didn't even realize it.

As I felt my world tremble over the years, felt the shaking intensify, and watched as splintering cracks threatened to shatter and overwhelm my life, I became scared. And, I finally reached out for help.
                                    When all around my soul gives way
                                    He then is all my hope and stay
                                    When grief has paralyzed my heart
                                    His grip holds even tighter than the dark

Intrusive thoughts. Flashbacks. Numbing. Depression. Hypervigilance. I learned that the things I experience have names and that they are symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I learned that there is help for dealing with past trauma, and that overcoming it is not dependent upon my own strength. I'm learning that as my memories are slowly unknotted and I am able to face and grieve my past, I'm not alone. Even if the end is not in sight and I'm unsure of where this path is leading me.

                                    It may take time on this journey slow
                                    What lies ahead I'm not sure I know
                                    But the hand that holds this flailing soul
                                    He will not let go
I am so thankful for how the gift of music and song can be a balm – how the Word meets us in this mysterious way bringing soothing and healing in the deepest parts of our souls.