Motivation

This evening, for some strange reason, I decided to do something I never do: willing go out into the pouring rain. I'm still not sure what possessed me to drop the clothes and office supplies and poster I was trying to pack at the time, and throw on a t-shirt and soffees and go for a run in the rain.
And let me tell you: it was epic.

At first, it was thundering a bit, and I was scared. In case you don't know, thunder is probably one of my worst fears, if not the greatest. I'm not sure if it's the monstrosity of it, or the feeling that some colossal person is very angry with you--maybe it's a combination of both--but thunder just makes me swallow hard and want to shrink away into hiding. Every time the sky roared my footsteps got faster, as if somehow running could make me escape the thunder. I cranked up the volume on my ipod, but it did little good. The thunder was determined to be heard.

So, naturally, I just ran. Faster than I probably have in my life. But it was so exhilarating. There was no one around, (I mean, it was pouring down outside; what idiot would possibly be out in that?) and so I just let the music take over my mind. The thunder died into a soft beating in the distance, and I wasn't flying in fear anymore. I was running through history--through my own fantasy, my own novel. When I finally stopped and looked around me, I wasn't Margaret Ann anymore. I was a character born of my own mind, brought to life by the music pumping through my veins, straight to my heart.
That's the thing about music. Music has its own magic, whether or not people see it. But they can always feel it. Some try to block it out, for one reason or another, but all those reasons come back to a simple explanation: fear. Music is more powerful than we realize, and when we begin to sense that power, some are terrified by it. They've kept their souls locked up for so long that to open themselves to be touched by music is an unimaginable vulnerability. Humans hate being vulnerable almost as much as they love their pride, power, and control.

Sometimes I think that's why God loves music so much. It's such a beautiful creation, which was intended to praise him--to make us humbled, and vulnerable. But the thing is, once you allow that vulnerability, you find you're actually uplifted in the process. That's what praise is. It's this feeling of complete failure, complete humility, complete surrender--but at the same time, this joy and peace and feeling that you've been crowned with something so beautiful that you could never deserve. How despite that BIGNESS of God's presence, he receives you with open arms. It gives you goose-bumps, and makes you shiver and tears begin to leak from your eyes, but you just can't stop grinning. It's like going over a bump where you get this jolt of excitement in your stomach, except that you feel it coursing through your entire body and you feel like you are just are hardly able to contain yourself from jumping up and down, sobbing, and singing, almost screaming, with all the breath that can fill your lungs. Think BRUNCH times ten million. And all you can do in response is keep singing praises, even though you know it will never be enough.