Music has always played a big part in my life, both culturally and in my family, specifically.

Growing up, our “Sing-Along” (i.e., what we called our karaoke machine and the predecessor to a staple at any Filipino party, the Magic Mic) held a prominent place whenever friends or family got together.

A story my dad always recounted was how he won a radio contest in the Philippines for singing, and won free voice lessons. (At least that’s how I’m remembering it — I may need a fact-check at some point.)

In the context of my personal faith journey, music has always held great meaning and is often a deep source of encouragement especially in times of growth and the pain that comes with it.

I grew up singing and learning how to play the piano because of church. I learned how to sing in second voice (a term I’ve only heard Filipinos use to refer to DIY harmony) from hearing my dad sing along to our praise and worship mixtapes (yes, we were that family lol) whenever we were in the car.

I remembered this yesterday — that music was one of the ways I experienced God — when my husband commented that he could sense that something was going on with me when he noticed that I had stopped blasting an album that I’d had going non-stop since finishing my Lenten retreat.

It was one of my absolute favorites when I was in my 20s, Stacie Orrico’s 2003 self-titled album, the one that featured songs like “Stuck” and “More to Life” (although those don’t come close to being the best songs on the album, in my humble opinion).

I was saying in yesterday’s post that I’ve been feeling kind of blah about everything lately, that choosing to do the right thing out of a place of freedom just feels really hard right now.

I remembered something that I had learned during my retreat, that in moments of consolation (an Ignatian term that is explained well in this blog post), one of things we can do is to store up those moments of grace in our memory, to save it for times when we are being tested or in times of desolation.

And while I haven’t fully discerned if I’m actually in a time of desolation, what I do know is that music can be a way for me to remember moments of grace and joy.

And now, because I’m approaching 30 minutes writing, I’ll share more tomorrow about what I’m listening to and how it’s helped.