Music has always played a major role in my life. In fact it runs in the family. My father's father played guitar with country music legend Hank Williams, and he wrote many of his own songs. My great-grandma
Genta Rippee taught piano. My father is one of the most avid collectors of music I've ever met, and
believe me when I say that I've met my fair share. I can remember back to my childhood when I used to admire the artwork of my dad's
LPs and beg to wear the headphones when he played some classic rock record. I started deejaying at the age of twelve, and writing my own rap songs at fifteen. When I start reminiscing, I realize that my entire life has been like a game of musical chairs. That may seem like a strange statement, but I'll do my best to explain.
In musical chairs the game begins with the players standing in line around a circle of chairs. There is always one less chair than the number of players. While music is played, the players walk in line around the chairs. When the music abruptly stops, the players rush to sit down in a chair. The player without a chair to sit in is out of the game. The object of the game is to be the last one sitting. Now you may say "that's nothing like life!", but I beg to differ.
As I said before, music has always played a major role in my life. I used to listen to music all the time. I would even fall asleep
listening to music. So for twelve years of my life the music played without any interruption, then I began junior high. I couldn't tell you one specific event that caused the music to stop the first time, but I'm sure there were many causes. See, around that time I
realized that my parents weren't in love with
each other. For the first time in my life, it seemed, not all was right with the world. The music stopped, and I searched for a chair.
We usually look for chairs to sit in them. We want to sit in them to rest our legs. We sit in them for comfort. I sought comfort in drinking. I sought rest in marijuana. The music started again, but now it was gangster rap. And after two years of constant fighting, my parents were divorced. I hoped that harder drugs and sex might give me the comfort and rest I needed, but instead they just made me paranoid. They left me wanting, unfulfilled, and guilty. So when my best friend drown to death later that year, I ran to those chairs with even greater frequency. Eventually those chairs broke under the weight of my burdens. See, while they may have offered some warped sense of
temporary relief, those chairs weren't built to last.
See "playing musical chairs" is also a metaphorical way of describing any activity where items or people are repeatedly and usually pointlessly shuffled among various locations. This described my life, which had no point, no purpose, no final destination. And these broken chairs that I was leaving everywhere weren't helping. Like everyone else, I have a conscience, so the guilt that went along with these sins was mounting, and I didn't know how to get rid of it, so instead I just tried to dull it.
My
sophomore year of high school, I moved in with my dad. My father had rededicated himself to Christ after the divorce. I began going to church with my dad and a new friend that I made at school was a Christian rapper. In both my father and my new friend, I saw a peace that I coveted. I wanted the rest and comfort that they had found in Jesus. In the book of Matthew, chapter 11, verse 28 Jesus is teaching and preaching in the towns of Galilee and he says
"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."
I finally found the chair I was looking for! What's more is, this chair was free! It didn't cost me money, good conscience, or good works. All it required was my faith, and I believe. Now I can rejoice at the words of Ephesians 2:6
And God raised us up with Christ and seated us with him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages he might show the incomparable riches of his grace, expressed in his kindness to us in Christ Jesus.
