I
wish I could write music. I used to write songs with my cousin when we were
younger. Our first album consisted of crowd pleasers like Party Time, Top Guy,
and Bluebird. For the reunion tour, we produced Bluebird 2. It was a rap. We
may have dabbled in beat boxing as well. Since then, I went solo and wrote a
few songs that never made it past the door of my bedroom. While I appreciate
music and the soundtrack constantly playing in my head, I was not given the
gift of expressing melodies on paper, piano, or guitar. I envy those who are able to
compose songs, building tension, finding beauty in dissent and resolution, and
capturing my unspoken thoughts and feelings in 4-part harmony.
Lately,
I’ve wished more than ever to be a songwriter because I can’t seem to resolve
my thoughts and feelings in a beautiful, melodious package the way a song can.
My life is lived in this glorious, infuriating tension that I can’t seem make
sense of. Currently, I’m hanging out on that second to last note of a song.
That note that drifts awkwardly through the air in search of its resolving
partner that will give it meaning and purpose. I’m the “with” without a “me” in the ABC song, the “you”
without an “are” in Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, and the “to” without the
“you” in Happy Birthday. (How many of you stopped reading to hum a little? You
have to finish the whole line don’t you.) I am living in anticipation of
resolution, but that pause before it happens feels as though it is going on
forever.
If
anyone of you know what I am talking about, I want you to close your eyes and
take a deep breath (then open your eyes so you can keep reading.) Sometimes,
that point of tension is the most important part of the song. I took voice
lessons in high school and we learned about breath control and phrasing and
things like that. One way to captivate an audience is to allow the tension to
build on that unresolved note while you take a breath in preparation for the
resolving note or phrase. The audience holds their breath, waiting,
anticipating that moment of resolution you know is coming. That point of
tension is important and necessary for both you and your audience.
God
is the ultimate songwriter. He has a way of composing our lives to form
melodies full of beauty and complexity. At times we are camped out in phrases
of tension, suffering or uncertainty. The snapshot of these moments feels
dissonant, harsh, and we quickly want to skip ahead to the resolution and joy
of the next phrase, wishing away that present tension. But when that happens,
we lose the beauty of our melody. God is constantly at work shaping our lives,
our stories to reflect who He is and who we are in Him. The songs that stir in
my heart are not the simple, happy melodies that make me feel like skipping
through a meadow, although those have their place. The songs that make me cry
tears of joy and sadness are those that are constantly dissonant and then
resolve. They take me on a journey that is at times awkward and uncomfortable,
but remind me that it is ok to live with tension. It is ok to live in
anticipation of what comes next. My anticipation doesn’t negate the importance
of the present, the tension I am living in now. So embrace, with me, the
tension of this place, the longing for what is next, and grace in the moment to
be content with both. God is faithful and composing a beautiful melody in your
life. Rock on!
“But I will sing of your strength,
in the morning I will sing of your love;
for you are my fortress,
my refuge in times of trouble.”
~Psalm 59:16
