Glimmers of grace in music therapy

I couldn’t help but share this front-page article from The Canton Repository today.

It’s titled “Special Talent” and highlights the healing nature of music therapy. A precious soul, Isabel Soehnlen, sings and strums her guitar to comfort those in desperate need of encouragement and hope.

“Anxiety is the same whether you’re in the hospital or not,” the 30-year-old Soehnlen said. “Music is still a valid intervention. In difficult times of illness, transition, or loss, music connects people to themselves and to others. It gives them a space to express, reflect, and feel heard.”

Sometimes life triggers us. A true trauma trigger is something in the present that reminds our mind and body (consciously or subconsciously) of danger from the past. It’s a miraculous alarm system built into us to protect us. It rarely feels like a gift—but it is.

Think of a fire alarm. If there’s a fire in the oven, that alarm saves lives. But if you’re just sizzling bacon and it still goes off, it doesn’t know the difference. That’s what a trigger is—it thinks there’s danger in the kitchen when there isn’t. 

And then there are glimmers… tiny moments that bring comfort, calm, or joy. They’re like nostalgia. My mother-in-law loved Yankee Candle. I say that in singular fashion because there was only one scent that mattered: Buttercream. Through chemo, radiation, and hospice, I made sure she had one wherever they would allow it. The scent calmed her. Even now, when I catch that smell, I get a little teary— it’s a glimmer.

This morning’s article was also a glimmer— taking me back to that same time. We were recipients of music therapy while by the bedside of my mother-in-law in hospice. A friend encouraged me to ask this dear woman who worked in the kitchen if she might sing for us. She did this for her family in the past and wanted my family to experience the same blessing. I hesitated—she seemed so busy, and I felt awkward asking. Feed me and sing to me? But I trusted my friend and asked.

That moment became a core memory.

She smiled so big, delighted to use her God-given gift. She walked in and stood at the foot of my mother-in-law’s bed and sang from the depths of her soul: “His Eye is on the Sparrow.” We all had the same response—wide-eyed tears, the kind that stream without blinking.

There was something sacred and magical in that moment that mere words alone could not have carried. We felt connection, assurance, and hope through the form of these words coasting on a deep soulful melody. There was something about the delivery that changed everything …one that brought us a gift of compassion and understanding in a very difficult time.

There is so much to say and sing about with music therapy…it truly is healing. This article was such a glimmer in my morning.