I began my music writing journey composing worship songs, pouring my love and devotion into honoring the Creator. My family lived and breathed walking the wide and open path of faith (as opposed to the straight and narrow). When it was time to go to college, I chose a small liberal arts college in the foothills of the Smoky Mountains. As a freshman, I declared myself a music major. I was going to be a Christian music artist.

 

I was eager to make my faith my own. I read that when you feel strongest in your relationship with Christ, the next step is to genuinely dive deep within and question the root of your faith. Trusting that God will reveal himself to you, you fully emerging into a relationship with Him that is forever unwavering.

 

There was no question that I was ready for the next step. I dove in heart first. I searched the deepest darkest corners of my doubt, pulling them to the surface, and spreading them out like a collage of magazine clippings on my dorm floor. My doubts were a fresh mountain spring bringing forth a force of endless natural uncertainties. And one by one, I laid them each out in their colorful menagerie before God. As my good intentioned masterpiece took shape, I stood back and asked him to clarify for me, to show me, and to reveal before me the raw truth of his nature.

 

Amid all of my uncertainties, God's answer to my call was not one of them.  Eyes towards the heavens, heart exploding with anticipation and humility,  the only response to descend was a deafening silence. Fear began to creep in. What had I done? In the emptiness of the silence, I tried to fall back into what I knew. I sang songs of worship and poured out my gratitude in an attempt to undo what had happened. But my actions were empty and felt forced.

 

For months I was in shock, moving through the motions of life like a ghost with no purpose. Was God testing me in his distance and silence? Those once close to me, offered superficial encouragement as they backed slowly. It was as if my uncertainty was a transmittable disease they would catch if they got to close. For the first time in my life, I was truly alone. In the years that followed, music was the friend that stood by me without judgment, listening to my deepest cries, and whispering that everything would be okay.

 

Song writing became the way I processed my internal and external worlds. I shifted from words of praise and glory to exploring truths I could touch and grasp within my direct experience [Continue reading.....].