Rachel E. Watson

A few months ago I wrote a post on my other blog about discovering my learning style. At that point I said I'd rather be deaf than blind, because I'm a visual learner.

Well, I'm still a visual learner, but in the past several months I've also discovered there's no way I could live without my hearing.

Music has been the single most influential and important factor of my existence the past few months. It's like a gateway to the soul, an outlet for expressing the feelings I couldn't possibly frame without the chords and riffs and strings, and the gentle, angry, happy or desperate strains.

Most of the songs that move me have been jazzy and soulful, or have touched some deep nerve within.

Some of them make me smile
and some have moved me to tears.

But the one thing the songs all have in common is their unfailing ability to bring me back to my Savior in awe, reminding me of the ultimate and original creative Master-- the one who gave us the ability and gifts to express ourselves musically.

Or, as in my case, if we can't sing it, we feel it terribly and wonderfully all at once. That vast and bottomless well, that spring coming from within, that cavernous space the music fills-- it is put there by our Maker. When we hear the music, it's meant to point us back to him.

There's no hyperlink for that.