Today I ran with friends: Michael, Ken, Chris, and Bebo among others. I hadn’t run with my ipod in a very long time, and it was a treat to bring the music along. I like to shuffle the playlist, so I never know who is around the next corner. Old “friends” or…well, skip that one.
I grew up surrounded by music, thanks to my mother and grandmother. I woke up in the mornings to the sound of my mom practicing or one of her violin students screeching out their exercises. Mom had music playing constantly, mostly classical in the background, but particularly around Christmastime when our church performed Handel’s Messiah. I can remember my baby brother when he was six or seven years old, sitting on the first row of the church balcony with the score of the Messiah in his lap and instructions not to move during the rehearsals.
How powerful is music? All those notes and lyrics are written in indelible Magic Marker in your brain. No joke. I haven’t heard California Dreamin’ in probably 45 years, but I could probably sing every word if it came on the radio. “Be careful little ears what you hear,” because it is there forever. (Ever get a really stupid song stuck in your head?)
So, I listen to a lot of praise music when I run. It focuses my mind on Whose day it is and Who is in charge and on Whose grace I depend. And that in itself is a great soundtrack to start the day. “Sing to Him a new song…” (Psalm 33.3)
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