a musing regarding music

“Steep Hills of Vicodin Tears” it’s a song I’ve scripted an entire movie around in my head. It’s played on repeat in my ears for days at a time and has yet to become the definition of boredom. It sings me to sleep and awakes my dreary soul. It brings me out of the darkness and refills drying the pen in hand. It’s calming, it’s pulsing, it’s me.

To say that music influences my life would be a tragedy. Music has given me breath through the terrifying moments of growing; it’s been the last string I’ve held onto as I’ve dangled off the cliffs of death and darkness. However it wasn’t music that saved my life, it achieved something greater, it brought me to Christ.

Each difficult and pivotal moment in my faith has a soundtrack or a song that plays out beside the script. In middle school, David Crowder Band’s “Never Let Go” and “Remedy” soothed my trembling spirit as I cried myself to sleep most nights, afraid of tomorrow, yearning for an end.

During my freshman year of high school while my own brother was bullying me it was “How He Loves” and anything else that I could take to numb the pain of being betrayed by my own family.

After I graduated and went into a gap-year program and learned, in September, that I had never had a relationship with Christ, I found myself weeping at His feet, overjoyed, in April, from the messages the music Les Misérables brought into my heart. A series of messages from a series of music, that finally connected the Sunday school knowledge of my brain to my soul for the beginning of a relationship with a Savior so beautiful I can’t believe I didn’t know it sooner.

Now “Steep Hills of Vicodin Tears” the song for this age, the song that found me in Florida and reflects the movements of the waves as they crash along the side of the Intracoastal, feeds my newest forms of prose and allows me to organize the clutter of emotions inside my head.

Music is the primary instrument Christ uses to radically change my life; to give it any less would be a tragedy.


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