Music became an important part of my life when, at age four, I learned how to play “Peter, Peter Pumpkin-Eater” on a big old upright piano while sitting on someone’s lap. More than six decades later, my love for music has only deepened, becoming one of the most meaningful elements of my life.
So, I’ll admit I’m a little biased. But even with my lifelong connection to music, I believe with all my heart that God, the Creator of every part of music, designed it to speak to us — all of us — whether or not we would ever consider ourselves musicians.
Each of us can recall a moment when a song touched us: a favorite hymn sung with conviction, or the pounding beat of a rock ’n’ roll tune that carried us through our teenage years.
Music is woven throughout Scripture, from David playing the lyre to soothe King Saul (1 Samuel 16:23) to the Psalm many non-musicians jokingly claim as their own: “Oh come, let us sing to the LORD; let us make a joyful noise to the rock of our salvation” (Psalm 95:1).
Scripture also paints heaven as a place overflowing with music—angels singing, believers singing, new songs being introduced, harps playing, voices blending like rushing water and rolling thunder, praise rising endlessly around the throne. And someday, we will lift our voices in the new Heaven and Earth and sing a new song. What an incredible day that will be!
Whether we’re trained musicians or enthusiastic “joyful noise–makers,” we can all be moved by music. I appreciate beautiful artwork even though I’d describe my own art skills as “drawing stick people with a ruler.”
Two recent moments reminded me just how powerful music can be.
One morning, a good friend called and asked me to listen to a song she was hearing. I couldn’t make out any words — there actually weren’t any — but the music was stunning. She was in tears, and when I asked if they were sad or happy tears, she wasn’t even sure she could categorize them. But the beauty of the music moved something deep within her. I think God used that wordless melody to draw out emotions that had waited a long time to surface.
That’s one end of music’s spectrum — the deep, soul-stirring end that reaches places we didn’t realize needed attention.
Later that same day, I heard “Silver Bells” on the radio. But instead of the familiar lyrics, I heard my dad — always the jokester — singing, “Silver bells, silver bells, it’s Christmas time in Prairie City.” (For those who don’t know central Iowa, Prairie City is a small town about 15 miles from where I grew up.)
And then there was his classic twist on “Winter Wonderland”: “Walking in my winter underwear…” If you knew my dad, this would not surprise you.
He’s been gone for 34 years now, but every Christmas when these songs resurface, so do the memories — warm, funny, and precious. And yes, I still miss him deeply.
That’s the other end of the spectrum — lighthearted, whimsical, and full of cherished memories.
I share these stories to encourage you to pay attention to the emotions music stirs in you. Maybe God is inviting you to release some long-held tears and let him tend to places that need healing. Or perhaps he wants to bring a joyful memory to mind — a reminder of laughter shared and love remembered.
Christmas music, maybe more than any other kind, is saturated with nostalgia. Let the melodies and memories wash over you. And let God do his work in your heart through this beautiful gift he created — the gift of music.
He will rejoice over you with gladness…
he will exult over you with loud singing.
Zephaniah 3:17