Music Tells My Story
This morning I woke up thinking about music. There hasn’t been a time in my life when music hasn’t been important. One of my earliest memories is taking some money I had saved and buying a 45 (if you don’t know what this is, I’m too old and tired to explain) to play on my record player. I must have been around seven or eight and the store was next door to the building I grew up in. Another favorite memory is an audio memory of the sounds of summer in Manhattan which included the sound of congas and other drums in the playground. There isn’t a period of my life that I can’t describe in terms of music. Lately my music is tied to my Zumba classes. If I’m feeling down, I listen to music. In my car, listen to music. Doing school work, listen to music. I like it all, classical, a little country, lots of R&B, lots of Latin (old school) gospel, lots of Beatles (have all my original albums), major closet Eagles fan and even a little hip hop.
So I felt right on target this morning when Reverend Harris preached on music and praise. So if you are having a challenging time, turn on that music and crank up the volume. The neighbors will get over it or join in!