It's the Music, not the Words
Some of my fondest memories as a young child come from the music that was in our home.
I remember the evenings when I would sit next to my dad on the piano bench. Being a concert pianist and a church organist, he would be practicing for that week's church service... or the next choir performance... or just playing for fun, enjoyment and relaxation. I would sit next to him and sing my own song, 'help' turn the pages of the music, or play my own tune on the high notes on the top of the keyboard.
I remember listening to the multiple LPs of The Messiah over and over again... whether it be Christmas or not. We would sing to the music or just enjoy the orchestra as it played. We would dance on the multi-shade brown carpeting and pretend that we were the conductor, the entire soprano section, or the timpani player with his big muted mallets.
This was the world in which I lived. A world filled with music.
As I have been reading blogs and interacting with people these days, I've had a nagging sense of 'guilt' (or some other word that more aptly describes how I've been feeling) in that I'm not at all interested in writing song lyrics, writing poetry, analyzing prose or creating a symphony of words from my inner soul. Many blog writers do that... and I completely appreciate them for that. This is a gift from God for those who can write creatively. They can find a deep sense of meaning and worship and closeness with their Creator through the penning of these heart-felt words.
I, however, just cannot do it. It is not the way I was created.
Not until recently, however, did I realize that. I felt stupid. I felt 'not in touch' with God. I felt as if I was missing out on a rich part of life because I could not put down on paper expressive words. I felt uncool... un-'hip'. Out of touch with today, out of touch with this generation. What is wrong with me?
You see, I love to write. However, my interest in writing is more technical. I want nouns and verbs to agree. I want tenses to be used correctly. I can no longer stand to look at a dangling participle or a split infinitive. (Please forgive me if I've violated any of my own rules in this post!!) I love grammar. I love using words 'properly'. You can see, therefore, why my love for writing does not necessarily extend to the more creative art of poetry and lyrics.
But how, you ask, can you love music without loving the words?
For me, it's the music, not the words that moves me. I love to listen to the actual notes being sung. I love to hear the tone of the singer's voice. I so much appreciate the subtle dynamics changes. The perfectly blended harmonies. The soprano who does not go flat. The driving beat of the drums. It's the music, not the words.
The music moves me to worship. The music brings tears to my eyes. The music fills my heart with joy. The music is my passion.
There's nothing at all wrong with me. I've been perfectly created by God and brought up in a home where music is a big part of the worldview. God has created all of us differently... and for me, the glory is found in each and every little note on the score.
And that, my friends, is music to my ears.
~lk
I remember the evenings when I would sit next to my dad on the piano bench. Being a concert pianist and a church organist, he would be practicing for that week's church service... or the next choir performance... or just playing for fun, enjoyment and relaxation. I would sit next to him and sing my own song, 'help' turn the pages of the music, or play my own tune on the high notes on the top of the keyboard.
I remember listening to the multiple LPs of The Messiah over and over again... whether it be Christmas or not. We would sing to the music or just enjoy the orchestra as it played. We would dance on the multi-shade brown carpeting and pretend that we were the conductor, the entire soprano section, or the timpani player with his big muted mallets.
This was the world in which I lived. A world filled with music.
As I have been reading blogs and interacting with people these days, I've had a nagging sense of 'guilt' (or some other word that more aptly describes how I've been feeling) in that I'm not at all interested in writing song lyrics, writing poetry, analyzing prose or creating a symphony of words from my inner soul. Many blog writers do that... and I completely appreciate them for that. This is a gift from God for those who can write creatively. They can find a deep sense of meaning and worship and closeness with their Creator through the penning of these heart-felt words.
I, however, just cannot do it. It is not the way I was created.
Not until recently, however, did I realize that. I felt stupid. I felt 'not in touch' with God. I felt as if I was missing out on a rich part of life because I could not put down on paper expressive words. I felt uncool... un-'hip'. Out of touch with today, out of touch with this generation. What is wrong with me?
You see, I love to write. However, my interest in writing is more technical. I want nouns and verbs to agree. I want tenses to be used correctly. I can no longer stand to look at a dangling participle or a split infinitive. (Please forgive me if I've violated any of my own rules in this post!!) I love grammar. I love using words 'properly'. You can see, therefore, why my love for writing does not necessarily extend to the more creative art of poetry and lyrics.
But how, you ask, can you love music without loving the words?
For me, it's the music, not the words that moves me. I love to listen to the actual notes being sung. I love to hear the tone of the singer's voice. I so much appreciate the subtle dynamics changes. The perfectly blended harmonies. The soprano who does not go flat. The driving beat of the drums. It's the music, not the words.
The music moves me to worship. The music brings tears to my eyes. The music fills my heart with joy. The music is my passion.
There's nothing at all wrong with me. I've been perfectly created by God and brought up in a home where music is a big part of the worldview. God has created all of us differently... and for me, the glory is found in each and every little note on the score.
And that, my friends, is music to my ears.
~lk
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