As I journeyed through the wilderness my life used to be, I always sought out music that spoke to where I was at that place and time When I was a child and teenager, a steady influx of Christian music fed me. However, college brought new life circumstances, and I expanded my musical palate to include a wide variety of very good secular music that was more in tune with my questioning, wandering heart. No longer believing in God simply because it was how I was raised, I began to feel like Christian music deserved a harder scrutiny than I had ever before given it. Did I believe what I was listening to? Was it a cliche? Were those artists simply regurgitating scripture and theology to cookie-cutter chord progressions and instrumentation? Did the music mean anything to me?
I completely stopped listening to Christian radio because my heart was not in the same place as the songwriters' lyrics of faith and praise. I was angry with God and unsure of what I believed. The songs I listened to were by artists like David Bazan, who sang about his own struggle with Christianity, and Nickel Creek, whose song Doubting Thomas seemed to speak my own heart's concerns. I was wandering in a wilderness of pain, doubt, and confusion, and I needed a soundtrack that matched my life.
After being born again two weeks ago, I started listening to Christian radio again. I figured I would give it a fair chance since I actually believed in God and His plan for my life again. Feeling a little bit foolish, I turned on the radio in my car on the way to work, trying to have an open mind. I was and still am biased against the Christian music industry, but I figured there had to be at least a little bit of good music mixed in with all of the ho-hum canned stuff. As I listened to the words of those songs, I began to feel my heart resonating with them in a new way. Words celebrating salvation and hope echoed my own newfound freedom from depression. For the first time in years, I believed in the God around whom those songs swirled, and the music was more than concepts and words.
Though my animosity toward Christian radio had dissipated, my bias against it was still in force. I began to think about searching for songs of hope that also were not afraid to portray the messier side of life and the true depth of God's grace. Our local Christian radio station has branded itself as family friendly, which is fine. However, we live in a messy, broken, hurting world. I need more than just squeaky-clean songs. I need a soundtrack that sings the songs of my life, and my life is not a happy bubble. There must be songs for anger, songs for disappointment, songs for confusion, songs for doubt. Songs for coming back home, songs for dark nights, songs for loved ones who died young, songs for enemies, songs for broken relationships. But for my life soundtrack, God must also be in those songs.
I woke up this morning groggy and unrested. After a night of fitful dreaming, the last thing I wanted to do was crawl from my bed and face the day. In a gray humor I drove to work. I began to pray, which is my new habit whenever I find myself in a bad mood. I believe that God uses my emotions to point out problems in my life and to keep me from getting too distracted by the little things, thus ignoring the big picture. As I prayed, I turned on the radio to the Christian station. Amy Grant began to sing about how crying about our problems to God is better than a hallelujah sometimes. "We pour out our miseries. God just hears a melody. Beautiful, the mess we are. The honest cries of breaking hearts are better than a hallelujah." Wow. That was not a song of feel-good theological regurgitation. I mean, yes, it contained spiritual principles, but the truth within the song felt real, gritty, and raw. I wanted more.
When I got to work I created an Internet radio station on Pandora.com based on the Amy Grant song I had liked. The songs that came up were okay, but they were not quite my style of music. I typed in Derek Webb instead, remembering how much his song "Wedding Dress" had affected my perception of God's love for our broken humanity. The music that resulted from my search absolutely blew me away. Song after song carried powerful lyrics about life both messy and beautiful. Songs of faith and praise mingled with grief for a sister who had died young. The instrumentation of the various artists and bands was similar yet diverse. Each carried a singer/songwriter vibe, but while some were a simple guitar and vocal combo, others were intricate in their percussion, strings, and other unexpected instruments, like the banjo or bells. As I listened, I realized that I had found a treasure trove. Each song went through my ears and over my heart, bathing me in beauty and truth. I had found the soundtrack to my life.
It feels good to enjoy Christian music again. There are still many songs that I really, really love that have nothing to do with God, but since my life has changed, so has my perspective. I no longer see the world in the same way I did before I was made new. Everything seems so much more purposeful. I look for the beauty hidden in ugliness. I find myself looking for ways to bring healing to the lives of people I meet every day. I see God everywhere, and I believe in His goodness. Now, I have music that sings with my heart, and my heart sings with the heart of God, which beats with compassion and love for the world. That is something worth singing about.
I completely stopped listening to Christian radio because my heart was not in the same place as the songwriters' lyrics of faith and praise. I was angry with God and unsure of what I believed. The songs I listened to were by artists like David Bazan, who sang about his own struggle with Christianity, and Nickel Creek, whose song Doubting Thomas seemed to speak my own heart's concerns. I was wandering in a wilderness of pain, doubt, and confusion, and I needed a soundtrack that matched my life.
After being born again two weeks ago, I started listening to Christian radio again. I figured I would give it a fair chance since I actually believed in God and His plan for my life again. Feeling a little bit foolish, I turned on the radio in my car on the way to work, trying to have an open mind. I was and still am biased against the Christian music industry, but I figured there had to be at least a little bit of good music mixed in with all of the ho-hum canned stuff. As I listened to the words of those songs, I began to feel my heart resonating with them in a new way. Words celebrating salvation and hope echoed my own newfound freedom from depression. For the first time in years, I believed in the God around whom those songs swirled, and the music was more than concepts and words.
Though my animosity toward Christian radio had dissipated, my bias against it was still in force. I began to think about searching for songs of hope that also were not afraid to portray the messier side of life and the true depth of God's grace. Our local Christian radio station has branded itself as family friendly, which is fine. However, we live in a messy, broken, hurting world. I need more than just squeaky-clean songs. I need a soundtrack that sings the songs of my life, and my life is not a happy bubble. There must be songs for anger, songs for disappointment, songs for confusion, songs for doubt. Songs for coming back home, songs for dark nights, songs for loved ones who died young, songs for enemies, songs for broken relationships. But for my life soundtrack, God must also be in those songs.
I woke up this morning groggy and unrested. After a night of fitful dreaming, the last thing I wanted to do was crawl from my bed and face the day. In a gray humor I drove to work. I began to pray, which is my new habit whenever I find myself in a bad mood. I believe that God uses my emotions to point out problems in my life and to keep me from getting too distracted by the little things, thus ignoring the big picture. As I prayed, I turned on the radio to the Christian station. Amy Grant began to sing about how crying about our problems to God is better than a hallelujah sometimes. "We pour out our miseries. God just hears a melody. Beautiful, the mess we are. The honest cries of breaking hearts are better than a hallelujah." Wow. That was not a song of feel-good theological regurgitation. I mean, yes, it contained spiritual principles, but the truth within the song felt real, gritty, and raw. I wanted more.
When I got to work I created an Internet radio station on Pandora.com based on the Amy Grant song I had liked. The songs that came up were okay, but they were not quite my style of music. I typed in Derek Webb instead, remembering how much his song "Wedding Dress" had affected my perception of God's love for our broken humanity. The music that resulted from my search absolutely blew me away. Song after song carried powerful lyrics about life both messy and beautiful. Songs of faith and praise mingled with grief for a sister who had died young. The instrumentation of the various artists and bands was similar yet diverse. Each carried a singer/songwriter vibe, but while some were a simple guitar and vocal combo, others were intricate in their percussion, strings, and other unexpected instruments, like the banjo or bells. As I listened, I realized that I had found a treasure trove. Each song went through my ears and over my heart, bathing me in beauty and truth. I had found the soundtrack to my life.
It feels good to enjoy Christian music again. There are still many songs that I really, really love that have nothing to do with God, but since my life has changed, so has my perspective. I no longer see the world in the same way I did before I was made new. Everything seems so much more purposeful. I look for the beauty hidden in ugliness. I find myself looking for ways to bring healing to the lives of people I meet every day. I see God everywhere, and I believe in His goodness. Now, I have music that sings with my heart, and my heart sings with the heart of God, which beats with compassion and love for the world. That is something worth singing about.
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