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By Morgan Blythe

Music is so precious. It is unique, ambiguous, yet so personal. It is specifically something that speaks to the soul or an outpouring of inward emotions that originate from the soul. It has all of these radically innate qualities.

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In all of its forms, it isn’t all what we enjoy. Sometimes, I would rather jump out of the car driving down the interstate rather than listen to one more country song. (Is that just me? Please tell me it isn’t just me out there). However, regardless of what type of music it is, it is beautiful to someone. It speaks to someone and has meaning to someone. It’s an outward expression of inward feelings, and that is raw and sometimes ugly, but it is necessary and so refreshing.

David writes songs of praise to God. Not only in his joy, but also in his lament, in his pain, in his suffering, he writes songs, crying out to God. That is beautiful. There are chapters of the Bible dedicated to these songs. There is something to be said about music that is that powerful.

I find myself, sometimes, listening to music so often that it begins to lose its meaning. It begins to retreat from a form of art and expression into something mundane which is never my intention, but it does. Whenever this happens, I have to think about the songs that David wrote to God, about God’s perfection and sovereignty and holiness and righteousness. I remember the value that is in words when set to a melody. It’s beautiful. It surpasses the mundane and helps to heal a weary and tired soul. It’s good and, sometimes, that gets lost in translation. The simple truth in Scripture highlights worship through song and the power of music, and I don’t want that to be so mundane any longer.


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