“And he hath put a new song in my mouth, even praise unto our God: many shall see it, and fear, and shall trust in the Lord.”
My name is Jae. I used to sing a weary song.
My heart cried day and night. I wept tears of pain, of anguish, of hopelessness. There was no light. There was no escape. The darkness curled its fingers around me and would not let me go. My song mixed with my tears, my throat grew dry, and the music faded. I lost my song. But it was not a song I wanted to sing anyway.
The music stopped.
I lay in the darkness, buried so deep I could never climb out. The silence pounded against my ears. The end had come. I had no song to sing, I had no music in my mouth. Enough, I said. There is no hope in living anyway.
A hand reached down through the darkness.
I can give you a song, a Voice said.
The Voice. It felt familiar, as if I’d known it, long ago, when I’d first found my song and begun to sing. I’d forgotten it. The Voice talked with a melody, as if words were too plain, too empty, by themselves. The Voice’s words danced on music. Something stirred in my heart, something old, something forgotten, something that remembered the Voice from that long time ago.
I reached out and took His hand.
He put a song in my mouth. A new song. I tasted it, worked my tongue around it, trying out the notes, the words, the pitch. It felt right.
Do I sing now? I asked the Voice.
Yes, He said. Don’t stop singing until I call you.
My name is Jae. I used to sing a weary song. I used to weep in the darkness. But that song is gone. That song is finished.
I sing the new song that He put in my mouth.