Music.

When I was younger up until now, I have always loved music and everything that is involved to create it. The moment I was born, my wonderful dad held me and rocked me as he sang “As the Deer.” Now, whenever I hear that song my tear ducts automatically react in time for the chorus to come around. And as I grew up, my mom was always, always singing. Not to mention my older brother Matthew who has one of the most handsome voices you will ever hear (only I have never told him myself).

With all these musical influences to grow me and condition me to never have a quiet, music-less moment, I was always under the impression that everyone else’s life was as musical as mine. I would try and have conversations with my elementary school classmates about my favorite Beatle or my weird love for James Taylor. I figured that kids my age all heard of Les Miserables the musical and appreciated the aesthetics of Colm Wilkinson as Jean Valjean. Yes, of course I engaged in the tween girl idolization of Nsync (no, not Backstreet Boys. Sorry) like any other elementary school to middle school student. But I had already been exposed to such a diverse range of music, and I started to notice that I liked boy bands only because my friends liked boy bands and nothing else (but JC Chasez was a stud muffin, not gonna lie). However, it was hard to stay faithful to the boybandery of the time.

That was a long about introduction to my main thought: I always wanted to make music. This was my drive to teach myself how to play instruments at an early age. From that old piano on Bella Street, Imus to my old faithful Taylor, I have ambitiously strived to write music. And I will admit, I have been a bit selfish.

For a while, I always thought that it’d be flippin sweet if I could make money off of making music. So, I joined forces with my best friend who aspired (and still does aspire) for the same thing. We inspired each other and expressed our gratitude towards our friendship through song. We recorded. We played a few open mics. We even made twenty bucks playing at Lestat’s in San Diego. (I sat on the same couch William Fitzsimmons and Brooke Fraser sat on??? *faints) Then aspirations changed.

Change? Yeah. Well, more enlightened. God showed me that I was already playing and making music. See, I have been leading worship for a long, long time. And the Lord humbled me when He showed me that joining His congregation in worship through song would be more of a blessing than playing at any old coffee shop. And it was true. The Lord has done an amazing number on my heart, showing me that everything I desire can be turned to glorify Him. When I lead worship, I don’t have that feeling afterwards that says, “Shoot, I sounded like crap. I shouldn’t have played that song. Dangit. No one liked that song.” Instead, I stand in awe of the God I worship, knowing that He sees my heart and He loves it when His beloved (that’s me!) sings to Him.

I still wouldn’t mind sitting in a recording studio. But honestly, I don’t think I will ever be as blessed as I am now as I raise my hands in worship.

So, I guess you can say that I am already living the dream.

This is a response to this Freewrite Friday’s prompt.