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Blog

Living a life of hope & wholeness and sometimes writing about it. 

 

I'm From: Acoustic Resistance

Elizabeth Moore

I’m from a musical heart.

 

I’m from singing my first words and dancing my first steps.

I’m from recognizing at a young age the joy that comes through music.

I’m from music and worship coexisting in the sacred places of my heart.

I’m from growing up.

I’m from self-consciousness and insecurity replacing the music that once captured my innocence.

 

I’m from piano lessons with Natalie in the fourth grade.

I’m from my first year of competitions ending in a new teacher.

I’m from rally study sessions and 7am lessons.

I’m from wanting to quit and give up everything when music got hard.

I’m from teachers and parents that wouldn’t let me.

I’m from them seeing my first love and God’s unique gift when I refused.

I’m from their urgings to persevere.

I’m from loving to sing but being too insecure to sing out.

I’m from angrily rejecting those who wanted me to sing again.

I’m from friends forcing songs out of me.

I’m from the prayers and persistence that slowly softened my heart.

I’m from reluctantly joining the youth worship team.

I’m from being ashamed but strangely hopeful at hearing my voice for the first time.

I’m from Sunday afternoons with Jason, Aaron, Casey, Emma, Beau, Melissa, and JD.

I’m from all of our talents synthesizing to create the sacred worship I used to love.

I’m from coming alive in those moments where beauty and air reverberate off the walls.


I’m from deciding to learn a few guitar chords in my spare time.

I’m from playing and practicing in my room when no one could hear me.

I’m from ending many days with tired vocal chords, numb fingertips, and unfinished homework.

I’m from broken guitar strings, chord sheets, and bottles of water.

I’m from capos, set lists, and Aaron’s jeep.

I’m from nervous prayers in Jason’s office on Wednesday nights.

I’m from humbly watching high-schoolers lift their voices to their Lord.

I’m from being unsure whose voice was coming through the speakers, but contently knowing the voice was singing to her Father.

I’m from going to college and losing time to play and sing.

I’m from pursuing a music minor because something inside me still won’t let go.

I’m from Milly’s living room and listening to her songs.

I’m from wanting to write songs of my own.

I’m from being asked to sing but old fears still choking me.

I’m from doing it anyway.

 

I’m from fear, stubbornness, insecurity and music coloring the past 19 years of my life.

I’m from what God is still teaching me. 

 

I’m from learning worship is not about me.

I’m from singing because He is worthy of praise.

I’m from the lie that talent makes me adequate.

I’m from learning to allow His grace to define my worthiness and adequacy.

 

I’m from the Gospel.