A Reason To Sing

She knows me well — better than most people. So I listened when she said I think too much. It’s true. I have a tendency to get bogged down in my own thoughts . . . everything from analyzing what I believe and why to overthinking decisions. I can seriously waste some time thinking. And it often leaves me feeling somewhat depressed and worthless.

It’s hard to see the forest when you’re in the midst of the trees, and I can get focused on one little leaf.

I can easily forget about the people I love, the dreams I have, and the gifts I love to use. I can get so focused on pain that I forget to remember the good. And if I think there’s the possibility that facing something will hurt, I’ll avoid it at all costs. For example, I often avoid listening to music or attending live music events because it’s a painful reminder of what’s absent from my life.

However, I’m realizing that the thing that can cause me so much pain is the same thing that brings me the greatest joy.

I didn’t intend to watch the Country Music Awards last night. I planned to run children to their evening activities. Instead, life happened, and I was stuck at home with a sick child. So at the last minute, I changed channels. I was immediately excited to see my favorite songwriter win song of the year, which also happens to be the first song I’m learning to play on the guitar.

As the evening progressed, and I watched many of my favorite artists perform, the drudgery I’ve felt for several days started to lift. It finally dawned on me: music is what moves me, what drives me, what inspires me, what gives me the greatest joy. How could I have forgotten? How could I have allowed myself to become so bogged down in all the stuff that doesn’t really matter? How could I have ignored my passion, my soul? How could I ignore the Muse?

Music is what always brings me back around to faith. Maybe that’s shallow, maybe it means I’m not as godly as the next Christian. But I can tell you that while I watched other people use their gifts last night, hope stirred in me. And hope has made very rare appearances in my life recently. But there was suddenly a definite hope, a strong pull towards faith, a reason to sing. If only for a little while, there was wonder and mystery and magic again. I no longer wanted to crawl in bed and sleep away my thoughts.

I’m learning that music is not only good for my soul, it’s a necessity just like air and food and water. It’s life to me. When I avoid music, I eventually end up among the walking dead . . . aimless, passionless, hopeless.

Maybe it’s silly, naive, even ignorant to say music draws me closer to God than any theology, Scripture, or prayer ever could. But it’s true. So if music can draw me away from that one, little leaf, can help me see the beauty of the forest, can make me forget about analyzing every detail of my life and beliefs, I’ll believe it’s the tool that will always bring me healing. And that, my friends, gives me a reason to sing.