Music

I tried to do some research this morning because I am thinking about music. I didn’t spend long on it, but came up empty.  My research question is this: if a child was raised in such a way that he or she never heard music – no lullabies, no radio playing golden oldies, no television commercials – no people-made music whatsoever, would that child hum to himself when he drove his toy cars along a dirt path, or would she spontaneously sing a little jingle when she was skipping rope?  Would she tap out a little cadence with her fingers as her mom braided her hair?

I don’t know the answer to this – but I hope that the desire and need for music in our lives is natural, inborn and instinctual. I hope that our imaginary child would create her own music to grow by. There is no doubt that the natural world provides kinds of music to us in the form of bird’s songs and the tinkling of water as it runs over creek rocks.  The rhythm of horses hooves, the whining of air through a partially open window, or even the rattle of a loose shingle on a roof in the wind or the screaming of a teapot suggests music, so I just can’t think that music is actually the invention of man.

Now I’m not a musician.  I took piano lessons (as an adult!) for a couple of years, and I really hate to admit how bad I was at it.  I’ve tried to play the guitar since I was in high school, and while I know several chords and can bang out some semblance of a few songs, I lack talent.  I do love to sing, and sometimes I hit the right notes.  I’m not talking about performance. I also am not very schooled in classical music or music theory.  I can’t really have a conversation that contains any intelligence on my part if you want to discuss how a symphony is constructed or concepts such as minor thirds or the difference between a nocturne or the definition of contrafact or ostinato (words I just discovered when I googled musical terms…)

But, despite my ignorance, the fact remains that I love music.  I can’t imagine that we aren’t born with music, placed by God’s loving Hand, inside each of us.  I lack knowledge and talent, but still, music is essential for me. All kinds of music touches me. (Okay – not rap – the jury is out whether most of that is actually music or just noise- and not always jazz because I sometimes can’t discern the difference between the actual song and when the ensemble is just warming up!). Nonetheless, I surround myself with music.  The radio or my MP3 player is nearly always on within my hearing, and when it is silent, I am often humming or singing to myself.  Music can give me energy or relax me.  Music can make me laugh (try listening to Ray Stevens and not laughing), or it can make me hurt. Music can make me remember and can encourage me. There is an entire library of songs that can make me cry – In Christ Alone written by Keith Getty and Stewart Townend or Agnus Dei by Michael W. Smith can take me from distracted or crabby to worshipful tears within just a few minutes (Thanks, Dave for leading worship yesterday and having us sing Agnus Dei).

This has been a summer of amazing music for us. Worship time with our friends, singing with Karl in the trailer. Last weekend we spent three days immersed in cowboy music at the Cowboy Gathering in Encampment, Wyoming.  I enjoyed so much sitting in the shade in my lawn chair listening to great, mostly original music by men and women in jeans and boots.  Last night we went with friends to a concert that included the Bellamy Brothers (40 years in the music business, aged 70 and 66 and still they put on a great set with terrific music!), plus Joe Diffie and then Sawyer Brown.  Old country greats singing music so familiar and welcome.  Protected from overzealous speakers by ear plugs, I still heard each note and each word, clapping along and dancing in my seat.

I could go on, though this is already a long blog. I will leave it at this:  Joyful noise or finely crafted sonata, music is a gift.  I hope you find some time this week to partake!