Today's Verse: ...The Mystery Solved!

"Shout joyfully to the Lord, all the earth; break forth in song, rejoice, and sing praises." --Psalm 98:4

OK, so this is technically my verse for Saturday. With that, let me introduce you to the newest member of my guitar collection:


This is called a "backpacker," and it's made by Martin & Co. It's designed for people who like to travel, especially those granola, John Denver-types who can't be within 10 feet of a campfire without a guitar in their hands but don't want to schlep their Takamine, etc., over Mt. Everest or some such adventure. This is my personal response to the highway robbery being committed by such airlines as American and the likes who are now charging $15 (and then some) to check even one bag when you travel. When the kids and I go for some quality Pookie time this summer, and when I travel with the Chicas, I need/want to have my guitar with me. Hopefully this can count as one of my carry-on items. I am actually packing my purse so that I can carry this guitar on -- how deranged is that?!?

But the way this verse ties in is clear to me. Music is not just something that I enjoy doing -- it has been a very major part of my life. I have been involved in music and performing since I was 10 years old, playing violin. I indulged myself in my first guitar (lovingly known as "Mrs. Garrison," for all you South Park devotees) after finding a "bucket list" Tom had made some time before he died where he listed, "Play guitar," as something he wanted to achieve in life. S4J and I embarked on this musical quest simultaneously, and she, too, can vouch for the healing quality of music in our lives.

Maybe it's because I'm a little bit a lot psycho, but music has been God's gift that has carried me through so many times and phases in my life. Not only has He given me the gift of being able to play musical instruments, He has also spoken to me through music. I guess you could call it a love language or some such. Two days after Tom died, the praise band from PWOC came over to the house, and we just sat on my living room floor and sang. God completely renewed and strengthened me in that fellowship for the days to come. I'll never forget barely being able to choke out the words to the chorus of, "Breathe":

"And I, I'm desperate for You,
And I, I'm lost without You."

It was the cry of my heart to my husband and to my God.

Chris Rice continues to steal words from my heart that describe my experience. The old words of the bluegrass songs and hymns that we do now at church take me back to the comfort of my grandmothers in times where life was simpler and beautiful. Feeling the vibrations of the back of the guitar on my stomach as I really rock out to an improvisational version of the Newsboy's, "It Is You," on Sunday with JO and the Chokemaster affects me in a way that could never come from a shot glass or a romantic kiss. It's music, it's emotion, it's my heart breaking forth out of my skin and sending my heart straight to the Father on the notes of a song that He put into my heart before I was born.