The Power of Music
January 31, 2022 — Laura House
While still in elementary school, Nathan was compelled to join a children’s choir at church, but not for the right reasons. You see, our children’s director had already raised some boys of her own and knew just how to recruit them. She offered anyone in Sunday School that morning a full-sized candy bar if they’d agree to join the children’s choir for an upcoming performance. Figuring it couldn’t be too bad, Nathan “took the candy bar.” Later when he wanted to rescind his agreement, that became the mantra the rest of the family reminded him of. It was a funny joke throughout his life. Even as an adult, there were sometimes appropriate moments for one of us to remind another, “you took the candy bar!” Basically, “you got yourself into this and now you have to keep your word.”
I loved music and wanted to pass that love along to my children. For a short time, both boys attempted classical guitar from a professor at the college in our little town but decided it wasn’t really for them. Eventually, all three kids learned just enough chords to enjoy the instrument. They all loved listening to and singing along with their favorite artists, and Megan sang in a girls’ choir at church. There were piano lessons that were short-lived, as baseball, basketball, and ballet were much more compelling, and there was the infamous “recorder” they all learned to play at our homeschool co-op. Megan dabbled with the violin as a child, and in her adult years picked it up again, along with the piano. Although none of them became proficient with an instrument, music was and still is a powerful and much-appreciated presence in their lives.
Some of my fondest memories are of hearing Nathan enjoying music when he was a college student and was working downstairs in our walk-out basement. As he programmed or fulfilled orders for FoxyTronics, he’d sing, whistle, or hum to songs playing from his computer. Always lots and lots of humming. When he’d occasionally ask me to help him sticker products, he’d turn on his Pandora playlist to accompany us while we worked.
During Nathan’s senior year in college, he decided to teach himself to play the piano. He regretted not learning it earlier, and I regretted not requiring the mastery of an instrument as part of our homeschool. He purchased a “learn to play the piano” course that had a video component. After a few months, I asked him if I could listen to him play, but he responded, “Not yet. But you can sometime soon.” Once when Megan popped into his room while he was practicing, he invited her to hear his progress. She told me that he had learned an amazing amount in such a short time and played beautifully! He played “Amazing Grace” for her and “When the Saints Go Marching In.” I’m sad that I was never able to be his audience and watch and hear him play. I sometimes wonder if his newfound love of piano is being utilized in Heaven? Perhaps I’ll still get to hear him play someday.
Music has a way of touching our hearts, doesn’t it? Shortly after Nathan passed into Heaven, I discovered Steven Curtis Chapman’s album, “Beauty Will Rise”, written after the death of his young daughter. Since that time, many grieving parents have shared with me their experience of closely relating to the raw and honest cries of Chapman’s soul, the agony of loss, the questions we ask, and through the pain, the recognition that God is there holding us through the storm. Whether you’ve lost a child, or someone else dear to you, I suggest that you listen to the songs or read through the lyrics of this album.
Interestingly, Chapman wrote a second album a few years into his grief journey, and if you’ve experienced grief, then you’ll see a progression in his writing. This album is titled, “Glorious Unfolding.” Working through the first years after losing his daughter, he comes to a new understanding of our earthly suffering. Throughout the first year of mourning, I listened to both albums so many times that the words are memorized…and still so appreciated. If the style of music isn’t your preference, simply read the lyrics.
Another source of comfort, hope, and perspective is gained from listening to or reading hymns, especially those born out of sorrow. Consider the situation of Horatio Spafford. After learning of the deaths of his four daughters, he penned the words to It is Well With My Soul. Fanny Crosby, blind from a young age, wrote so many beautiful hymns such as He Hideth My Soul, All the Way My Savior Leads Me, and Blessed Assurance. And then probably my all-time favorite is Great is Thy Faithfulness, by Thomas Chisholm, a testimony to God’s faithfulness through incredible adversity.
Lamentations 3: 22-23 “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.”
