I often wonder what song would be playing behind the scenes if my life was a movie. Go ahead. Smile and think about your own life. Wouldn’t life be grand if just the right song was fading in and out in sync with the large and small moments of your life?

Back in high school, when I was sick of living in a small town and thought I needed to get away, Lenny Kravitz’s song, “Fly Away,” would have been blaring in the background as I cruised down the highway in my too-cool-for-you, red Geo Metro. In early adulthood, after I made peace with Madison, “God of this City,” by Chris Tomlin would have played as I longed to be on mission in my hometown as a teacher. Then as my own kids came along and I began to look at all the people God sent to impact me as a young person, “Thank You, for Giving to the Lord,” by Ray Boltz would have been the melody in the backdrop.

Songs make up a timeline of my life. There were seasons of excitement, frustration, joy, and sadness—all filled with a playlist that fit the emotions of the moment. During joyous times, it seemed easy to praise and the songs were often upbeat and fun. In sorrowful seasons, the songs were deep and contemplative, with a slower beat and rhythm. I hunted for the right songs to help me express my emotions in all those moments.

As I drove home from church today, a question swooped into the silence of my car. Will you also sing in the waiting? I chewed on this thought all afternoon. There is no definitive emotion in the season of waiting, instead there is an overflow of emotions coming from all sides. Anxiety is high. Answers are low. Directions are at a halt. And questions are swirling. Some days I swing to the positive side, while other days I’m struggling to hold onto a hopeful thought. But the question remained frozen in the air in front of me, “Will you also sing in the waiting?”

Singing in the waiting means willing my soul to sing when it’s overwhelmed with fear. It means mustering up trust in God when I’m not sure the outcome will be in my favor. And it means choosing to look for strands of hope when the what-ifs of life are closing in from every side. Singing in the waiting means surrender. And it means humility.

The answers won’t be coming anytime soon, but what I realized is that I can choose to praise God, even in my waiting. I can count my blessings. Submit my requests. And rest in the assurance that no matter what is coming down the road, he’s already made a way.

When I’m hopeful, I can sing. When I’m afraid, I can sing. When I’m sad, I can sing. When I’m overwhelmed, I can sing. When I’m blah, I can sing.

And while I’m waiting, yes, I will choose to sing.

Send me your favorite songs for those hard seasons of waiting. I need to make a new playlist.