I used to walk almost daily at Arbor Hills. It was close enough to work that I could go in the mornings. I always listened to music when I walked there even though I don't tend to do that while walking anywhere else. I spent a lot of time listening, worshiping, praying, and working things out there.
I built my first playlists on my phone during those days, which probably had something to do with why I listened to music while I walked. One playlist I created at the time is simply labeled "Christian." I have since added Christian 2 and 3, but you don't want the playlists too big, and you want to be able to find your newer music easily. So I divide up my favorite music and it ends up becoming something that represents a period in my life. I love that.
My "Christian" playlist has music I was just learning to appreciate during a period of my life that alternated between huge joys and big scares. Our first two kids had finished college and our last kid had just graduated from high school. We had recently put on a wedding. I had had major surgery and was diagnosed with a rare and usually fatal cancer with no real treatment options that would ensure long-term success (but...). I had seen that my grown kids actually liked the idea of settling close to home and maybe even coming to our church. I had learned to appreciate newer music that might make them feel like they even belonged at our 100+-year-old church, and even found that this music could take me to places of worship that I desperately needed at the time.
So this morning was possibly the last cool morning of spring and I woke up early and I decided to drive to Arbor Hills and walk. I put on my old "Christian" playlist. Listening to it really took me back to some incredible times of worship, both in church and on those walks. The list has a lot of Phil Wickham songs. I liked them because he sings about heaven a lot, and I needed to meditate on looking forward to heaven and making that transition a graceful one. Brooke Fraser's Albertine helped me think things through. Jon Foreman challenged me, and I wept through Somebody's Baby as I prayed for my drug-addicted nephew, and through Learning How to Die as I prayed for myself. Then there was David Crowder bellowing "Everybody wants to go to heaven, but nobody wants to die..." And if you can't worship to Jeremy Riddle's I Am Redeemer you may not have a heartbeat. And so much more, usually played on shuffle...
Listening to those songs this morning in the setting where I used to do so much business with God was glorious. It was good to remember, but I'm so glad I've continued to build new playlists. Things change. Our church is changing dramatically. Listening to the same music and even seeing and smelling and experiencing those memories can make me want to be in that spiritual place again. But God has something new in store. And when I think about it, there's a lot I don't want to go back to. So many of the prayers I prayed there have been answered. God is so good, so infinite; so much is yet to be done.
I'm thankful for sounds, sights, and smells that remind me. But let me keep looking forward to new music, new ways, new opportunities to offer myself as a "living sacrifice, acceptable to God, which is [my] spiritual service of worship."
"See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up: do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland. The wild animals honor me, the jackals and the owls, because I provide water in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland, to give drink to my people, my chosen, the people I formed for myself that they may proclaim my praise." (Isaiah 43:19-21, NIV, emphasis mine)
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