Ever find something that triggers an entire series of memories?
It happened to me this morning.
November 20th, last year. It was the day I wrote the melody for “Still Believe”. I set up a 4 or 5 part loop and just got out of the way long enough to hear what my heart really had to say.
A little over two months prior we had moved cross-country from Oregon to Franklin, TN - a week before our daughter was due to be born. And while I felt very sure that it was what needed to happen, there was still a lot of uncertainty surrounding the situation. Faith is like that, I guess.
The day I recorded this loop there was a rumbling in my soul I couldn’t ignore. I had to push pause on everything else and get it out, and in the raw honesty, even pain, of what I was feeling this melody came out as a strange mix of reverential prayer, a scream of fiery anguish, and ultimately a sigh of solemn surrender. By the time I recorded this audio memo tears were freely flowing down my cheeks and my body was shaking. Apparently it was something my heart really needed to say.
It wasn’t long before I turned it into a full (6-and-a-half-minute 😱, didn’t MEAN to do that) song and I realized there was a story in it. My family’s story. And other families’ stories. And anyone who’s ever fought to believe for some Great Good that could drastically alter the course of generations after them and many beside them. It wouldn’t leave... and at times I was afraid of what it might mean... the process of making something I had no idea how to make.
I felt strongly the story needed to be told, though, and so I did something I’ve never done before: I created a “moving (lightly animated) comic”. An animated music video. I had dreams of making comics as a kid, but this isn’t what I do. It was beyond my capacity at times and pulled out far more than I thought I had in me, sometimes in ways that challenged my understanding of rest and trust. But I found that growth occurs IN the process even more than AFTER the process.
While the video only shows the first part of the story, the pain point, if you will, a theme of hope, resilience, and trust, and perhaps even victory (?) is felt echoing from the yet-to-be-made Part 2.
I hope I get the chance to make it, but not for me (I already know how it “ends” 😉).
Even if I don’t, though, I want to live “Part 2” loud enough to help others know that hope and “good” not only exist, they’re possible to have.
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