"I was born, I was born to sing for you" -U2

After a crazy weekend full of people and celebration, I've felt the downhill emotional tilt that tells me rest and low-key living may be necessary for the next week. Since I'm one of those odd people who gets joy out of cleaning, that's what I did for part of today (this is possibly motivated by the fact that I am now living back home and my mom made it clear that such behavior is necessary).

As I was cleaning the bathroom floor (possibly my least favorite thing to clean), a John Mark McMillan song came on my iPod that brought me back in time to a few weeks ago in Seattle, where I attended a worship service that he was leading. I went into the service thinking, "aye, another church thing. great." I left with quite a different perspective. That evening taught me something about the power of a song and what happens when it becomes your own.

As I got over my awkwardness in being surrounded by people I did not know, I found myself worshipping along with these brothers and sisters on the west coast. I've been to a worship service with John Mark before back in Maryland, and it was awesome. But there was something different about the atmosphere in Seattle. At one point I opened my eyes, surrounded by a presence that brought tears to my eyes. We were singing the song Ten Thousand, and as it got to the chorus, hands went into the air and everyone started singing at the top of their lungs,

"World, I've overcome you, world. By my song and the blood of a Son."

I became witness to a choir of teenagers who could have spent all evening in that room, singing that line alone.

I've heard that song a hundred times. It's one of my favorites. But not until then did I sing it with such intensity. I was surrounded by young people who almost needed that declaration of victory just to survive. Their hearts felt like they were about to jump out of their chest and into the heavens..."GOD, I LOVE YOU. I NEED YOU. IT'S BY YOU THAT I OVERCOME."

Later that evening I had a conversation via text with a friend back east. After I described the evening best I could, he reminded me of the motivation behind old spirituals. They were written and sung by a people who needed those words to make it through each day. They needed those songs to survive. The lyrics weren't just cute words strung together for an evening of entertainment. They had power to sustain and to motivate change.

Now I think about music differently. I notice more now the songs that I feel deep within my heart when I sing them. I feel like those songs tell me a bit of who I am--a bit of how I've been designed and what makes my heart beat fast to the point of longing for wings to fly. And it makes me see people differently. I see in the songs they love both their hardships and victories, struggles and triumphs...and what they hold onto as a battle cry.

Oh the reminders that come while cleaning...

Here is the song: