My journey with worship began before I came into the world. I was born into a family of worshippers on my dad’s side. My grandma recounts stories of tent revivals with her dad at the pastoral helm and his wife and 8 kids (including Grandma) playing, singing, and leading worship. Some of her brothers were extremely gifted in picking up and playing any instrument by ear. It was a family affair and a way of life. My grandma at 92 continues to play piano for the small church her daddy planted. My dad and brother, carrying on the family legacy, lead worship at the small church I grew up in. My older sister carries music in her heart and, until recently, on the stage of a large church. Music is what we do. A family mission statement left unwritten but understood.
My relationship with music is a complicated one as I grew up very timid and shy, not wanting any sort of attention. Singing publicly begets attention, so though I loved music, I was fraught with stage fright and extreme self-consciousness. My dad would occasionally talk me into singing at church and the aftermath was never worth it. Tears, obsessive thoughts, and never-ending performance rehashing were left in the wake of any public singing.
Fast forward 40 years and cue in a spiritual awakening, my relationship with song has been resurrected in the most beautiful of ways. One day, after months of the Lord freeing and bringing me out of the captivity of fear, he beckoned me to read Psalm 24. As I read the beautiful words and studied my bible notes about the Psalm, I learned this was a responsive song. It was sung and reenacted outside of the gates of Jerusalem as a reminder to the people of when David brought the ark of the covenant through the gates. It symbolized the people’s desire to have God’s presence among them and reminded them to invite and celebrate together the presence of God.
As I was imagining this Psalm being sung so long ago, I began to hear a melody in my head and a chorus with the words of Psalm 24. All of a sudden I found myself writing a song ripped off of the very pages of the Word. I play a little guitar and in no time at all was singing along to Psalm 24. I had never had the urge or done anything like this before, but the presence of the Lord was strong and something beautiful was being unlocked within my soul. Song. Creativity. Legacy.
I would spend the next couple of years writing songs and choruses from scripture and songs inspired by quiet moments with the Lord. This was (and continues to be) a beautiful time with the Lord. He was strengthening me and freeing me from having to perform at all. Though I do worship a bit publicly now, for a few years it was just me and Him. He taught me in the secret place the purpose and the value in song: praising Him, agreeing with scripture, aligning my heart with his heart, and cementing His truths in my very soul when circumstances would tell a different story.
It was no accident that one of the first things the Lord brought to life in me after awakening me, was creativity in music. Though I wasn’t fully aware of it, my heart was longing to sing to him. I love and value singing in corporate worship and along with the radio, but there was a place in my heart left untouched. A place that was only unlocked by writing and singing my own songs. A new song. A song using the Psalms with my own melody and emphasis, not someone else’s. A song with my words, not someone else’s. A song about my love for the Lord, not someone else’s. A song about my struggles and hope in the Lord, not someone else’s.
Over and over the bible exhorts us to sing, to make music, to sing a new song, to sing Psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs. (Psalm 33, 96, 98, 144, 149; Isa. 42:10, Eph. 5, etc.) I will be the first one to testify that this is not just an exhortation for those who have musical backgrounds and abilities. It is for everyone. It is for you. It is for me….an average, untrained singer and a subpar guitar player. I may not sound like Lauren Daigle, but I can make music. I can make a joyful noise unto the Lord. I can sing a phrase to the Lord about what’s in my heart. Perhaps the music will never leave the quietness of our personal times with the Lord, but I assure you the audience of one is worth the effort.
Singing and making music is a legacy for all of us, not just my family. As brothers and sisters in Christ, it is one of our family mission statements. In fact, it is commanded. We are worshippers. We are music makers. We were grafted into a rich heritage of worshippers, with the history of song splashed all over the pages of the Bible. In good times and bad, we sing.
May we all make music unto our Maker. With our own voices and words. Our own personal praises and delights. Our own sorrows and laments. Together, let’s shed off the world’s idea of music that comes with performance and professionalism. Let’s be ok with being raw, untrained, undignified, passionate worshippers of our King.
