And yes, this entry will be my music testimony.
I have never listened to pop. I mean, sure, George Michael occasionally in my dad's car, a little Britney Spears on the radio... But I've never really been exposed to that stuff. In fact, for such a long time, I found it the most uncomfortable thing to listen to. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that that's because a large part of it falls under one of three categories: sex, relationships, or sadness. It's not the kind of thing I liked listening to as a kid (even some of my dad's stuff got me a little on edge, but out of respect, I never said anything about this), and it's not the kind of thing I listen to now.
Having said that, I grew up on rock. Bon Jovi, Guns N Roses, that kind of stuff. Stuff that, as a five-year-old, you can't exactly hear (even now, actually, some Guns N Roses lyrics are absolutely incomprehensible to me), and stuff that you don't understand at all. Because I didn't understand what it meant to "get so high" or "leave you lying on the bed", that kind of stuff, and of course my parents weren't about to tell me so soon, they were bands that I kept in my back pocket all through... well, through most of my childhood. But I didn't really listen to them... We'll come to that in a bit.
I remember first hearing about Linkin Park. I was maybe nine or ten, and we were in a bookstore. For some reason, someone had put up an A4-sized image of their Minutes to Midnight album cover. I'd seen Linkin Park CDs lying about, but the only thing I really knew about them was that they were one of Dad's CDs, and so they were probably stuff I'd never touch. I noticed the poster, grabbed my dad's arm and said enthusiastically, "Hey Dad! You like Linkin Park!" You know, I was at that age when really, the big thing was to get Dad to recognise me and be proud of me, so when he responded, "yeah!", I was actually pretty happy. That wasn't how it started though. Again, I'll get to that later.
If you don't know me, or you don't know how I was in Secondary One... I was like every other Secondary One kid out there. I was new, I had the long socks and endless skirt, I was bursting with a kind of otherworldly positivity, and I loved everything the school had to say. Another thing? I was strongly against relationships at that age (I still am! My parents have a dating policy: if a guy wants to go out with me, he has to ask them first. And I've got to be eighteen. And I'm completely okay with this.), and I wasn't afraid to say so. I remember telling a friend who claimed to be in love that love wasn't real, and that nothing he felt now was going to last. I remember telling him the year after that sex before marriage wasn't worth it, and that it was not ever going to be something I would fall into, and that he should aim to think the same way.
Yes, I was a goody two shoes.
These are the people that society and its corrupted ways will tear down first, because as mouthy as they are... they're pushovers.
I think it finally got to me after awhile because I had so many friends... and none of them believed the same thing that I did, about relationships or God (and back then, my rootedness in Him wasn't much to talk about anyway)... So I fell out of it. You've probably read about my falling out with God (and if you haven't, you can, in "part two of a very long intro"), and how things just started to fall apart. It began when I heard my parents (they were, to me, and actually... still are... the very definition of a perfect couple) argue for the first time... and then the second time... and the third...
It's not like they fight a lot. They don't. But they are human, and they do have disagreements, and I think when you start staying up late without them knowing, you do end up discovering a lot of things that were previously veiled to you. Don't worry though, the fights were never big. But to me, a girl who had been raised in a fairytale, this was hell on earth.
I worried. I prayed a lot.
I heard about friends who had similar problems, and I listened also to those that didn't. Yes, surprising as it may be, I love talking... but I'll always listen.
I think that no matter who you are, when you start to edge into the real world, when you're coming of age, you worry. You freak out, and you think something's wrong... with you, or with the world. You try to fix it. And of course, bless you, you can't, because there is nothing to fix. My case wasn't really exceptional.
And music's always a great way to lose yourself when things are kind of rough and confusing.
I remember once, in Sec One, a girl took one look at my iTunes, and laughed at me for having Luther Vandross on it (for the record, I kept his song "Dance With My Father" because it reminded me of my grandfather, and my dad would cry whenever he heard it. I don't actually know any of his other songs. But that's not the point and it doesn't matter.). My whole idea of music changed a lot in that one incident.
Add on the fact that at the end of the year, I was told by a vocal coach that I couldn't sing, and was asked to lipsynch throughout the performance and wasn't given a mike, while the rest of the children's ensemble (including the five year olds who didn't have any concept of what singing really meant at that point) were happily going for mike checks and studio recordings... I got angry.
In fact, the year after, I didn't listen to any music. At all. I'm not even kidding. If there was music playing, I wasn't there. Not in the car, not in my room. I didn't even sing during Praise & Worship at church. I was just so angry and disappointed because, like it or not, I'd spent a large part of my childhood imagining myself as a singer, writing songs, looking up to people who were acclaimed for doing both... And then here I was, watching all that come tumbling down. I'm a strong believer in the idea "you either do it or you don't. There is no in-between.", so I decided that if music was going to hurt me... I would hurt it back. I would hold a grudge.
It couldn't be that way forever, though. After a year, I decided that I wasn't as disgusted by music as I was before. But, y'know... I'm a stubborn person. So the only stuff I listened to... was angry music.
Oh yeah. Hold up. I forgot. My first exposure to heavy metal was also in Secondary One. A friend of mine (a really close friend actually, who's stuck with me till today) asked me to listen to A Little Piece of Heaven, by A7x. Naïve as I was, I did. Overall, it was the most shocking thing I'd ever heard.
But at the point that I got back into music, that's the kind of stuff I turned to first. That, and Linkin Park. Now, in theory, Linkin Park isn't bad stuff. Neither is a7x, or AC/DC, or Black Sabbath or... I'm kidding. There's a lot that's wrong with it, and it can have disastrous results (maybe it already is for you, and you've just gotten so used to the end product that you can't see it anymore) on you if you don't know how to practice censorship of the mind.
I know, it sounds pretty wacky. "Censorship of the mind". Believe me, it hit me hard when someone told me about that. What? But I've got this whole hormone thing going on, I can't even control what goes through my brain anymore!
Truth is, you can't.
God can, though. I've found that the past year, my thoughts have been... unnaturally clean! Which is great, and really refreshing. And some weird thoughts do still pop up. But then that's when you take on the role of thinking about what your mind has come up with, and rationalising and praying about it, and discovering why it's wrong, and recognising that the devil has given you these thoughts to tear you down.
But as a thirteen-going-on-fourteen-year-old... I didn't understand that at all. I mean, I thought I did. I was like, "yeah, I listen to metal. But I don't kill people or do drugs. I'm cool."
Nah. I wasn't. I was hot-headed. I cussed in every sentence. I took alcohol from the refrigerator when my parents were asleep (they will probably read this now, and since they will... I'm sorry mom, I'm sorry dad. And I'm sorry to myself and to God too). I climbed onto the roof and pretended to be invisible. I cut myself (a testimony for another time, I think). I did... a lot. And I thought this was all part of growing up, of coming to terms with my sexuality, my maturity, my immaturity, the world around me...
Truth is, I really don't think it was. I think it was hugely based on the music I heard. The music which, a year before, I had been completely taken aback by. The music which I'd desensitized myself to. The lyrics which I couldn't filter out.
I can prove it.
I've stayed off metal and rock since the start of the year, and it's been... I don't think the same way, I don't get angry the same way, I don't cuss. And I'm not even making a conscious effort to control my thoughts, temper, or tongue. It's really reliant on what I'm subconsciously letting in.
To those who are wondering, yes, converting from heavy metal and rock to gospel was weird. It wasn't hard, but it was very odd. Odd to stand on the train to drum classes listening to Chris Tomlin, or wait for assembly to start with Hillsong. Very strange to fall asleep to Switchfoot, or turn on Casting Crowns when I'm sad, or Starfield when I'm angry.
But it's changed me immensely, and it's been a massive part of the purgatory process. Right now, I urge you to survey your music taste. The kind of stuff you let in your head. If you're going through a rough relationship, are you drowning yourself in lyrics that encourage you to wallow in your lost love? If your family situation isn't ideal, are you letting lyrics about uncontrolled anger shape the way you think? And if you're happy, are you letting sad lyrics bring you down? Think about it. Think about what you listen to, and how you really, truly feel. How God wants you to feel. Turn on some gospel music (if you don't know any, Youtube Starfield, Casting Crowns, Switchfoot, Hillsong, Chris Tomlin, MercyMe... there's a lot of good stuff out there), let God tell you what you really feel. Get rid of the warped perspectives that your music might be giving you.
Pray for self-censorship. For me, that's something I'm asking God for. Something maybe you can help me pray about too.
I know it sounds trivial, and there are some really great bands we're not ready to let go of... But it's sometimes for your own good. Search your heart. Why do these bands mean so much to you? Is it your image, your feelings... what is it? And is there a way you can let God take hold of this importance, and let Him crush it?
I'll be keeping you all in prayer. God bless.
No comments:
Post a Comment