Musical Interlude

I am not a “musical” person.

I do not have any “musical” talents to boast of.

Back in elementary school my music teacher told me I didn’t have a good voice and ever since I have been very self-conscious about my singing where people can hear me. I also attempted to play violin in junior high and spent two year stuck in the “back seats” where the painfully inept would waste away far from the prying ears of our conductor.

So I find it quite ironic that I really do love music.

It is comforting, soothing, like a big blanket that you can wrap around yourself. I think more than anything I love music because it is internal in a way.

Music has the ability to express what simple words cannot. It can paint a picture with a melody and verse that some artists wait a lifetime to create on canvas. There is something within the human body that is drawn to music. A simple beat will almost force one to tap their foot. A building up of words and instruments will make you sit tall at the end of your seat waiting for that crescendo of sound and then you relax back as the music fades and quiets.

Music also speaks to us in those moments when we can’t seem to form the words that express our thoughts. We’re often drawn to songs because they comfort us in our moments of distress, they sum up the feelings of excitement and joy that are bursting forth, or they offer hope and a promise when we feel we can’t go on.

My last post, Question of the Week, asked “If you had to choose 5 songs to go on a CD that would be titled with only your name, what would they be?”. Some took this to be five songs that represent your life, while others chose their five favorite songs. I’ve come to realize that often my favorite songs do represent my life. The lyrics might not tell of something I’ve done or experienced, but the song itself reminds me of a certain moment in time, a memory of who I was at the moment I first heard the song, or a wave of emotions that have become imbedded into the music and the music into my life.

Music has this effect on people. It unites us, it divides us, but more than anything, it defines us in ways that are personal and intimate. There are songs that immediately bring a smile to my face and others that induce tears at the first few notes. Think of how we use and experience music in our lives: A wedding song or “our song” that sums up this thing that is called love; a favorite hymn played at a funeral offering comfort and hope; movie scores and soundtracks that blend emotion and action into the mind of the viewer; and so much more.

So why is this non-musical person talking so much about music? The answer is simple; I want to share with you a story of a recent musical experience.

Monday I was driving to work on a very cold morning. For some reason I was in a funk of sorts and having a good ol time in my pity party of “whoa is me”. I was listening to my new David Crowder CD – “A Collision” and a particular song came on.

So here I am, in a funky mood and really not listening to the song.

And then it happens.

Let me set the stage with the lyrics:

Are we left here on our own?
Can you feel when your last breath is gone?
Night is weighing heavy now.
Be quiet and wait for a voice that will say . . .

Come awake, from sleep arise.
You were dead, become alive.
Wake up, wake up, open your eyes.
Climb from your grave into the light.
Bring us back to life.

You are not the only one who feels like the only one.
Night soon will be lifted, friend.
Just be quiet and wait for a voice that will say . . .

Rise, rise, to life, to life . . .

SHINE.
Light will shine.
Love will rise.
Light will shine, shine, shine, shine.
He’s shining on us now.

If you’ve ever heard this song there is a mellowing of the music and Crowder is almost whispering “rise, rise, to life, to life . . .” then there is a build up of sound as the violin begins to play louder and louder and you hear piano join in and then all of a sudden it all comes together on the word SHINE and you hear guitars and drums and the bass and Crowder’s voice so loud and clear carrying one solid note and the other guys in the band are singing “wake up, wake up” in the background. (I’m not doing justice to this amazing moment in this song so please, please go find it and listen to it).

At the exact moment that this happened the sun burst forth from behind a building and

I

LOST

IT

It was if all of a sudden something inside of me ruptured. I just started crying. It wasn’t tears of sadness or even tears of joy it was more of an immediate reaction to a truth that was made all too real in that one moment.

Music has this effect on me.

How about you?