Music to drive by

My drive to Michigan takes 11 hours; I have it down pat. The trickiest part, always, is getting enough sleep the night before, and I hadn't done that. So at the start of the trip I was already dragging, wondering if I could even make it to Lancaster without a nap in the back seat at the weedy edge of some truck stop.

I had brought about a dozen CDs, but decided to throw the Judy Jacobs one in first: Get Ready.

I never opened another CD case. It was Judy Jacobs all the way to Detroit (minus three hours of Rush Limbaugh from noon to 3). And I didn't once feel sleepy, or have to slap my face, or clutch the steering wheel, or open the windows, or bite my knuckles.

Even I thought, fleetingly, that it was a bit much to keep replaying the same songs through the whole width of Pennsylvania and Ohio and into the Wolverine State. But every time I contemplated switching to Sarah Vaughan or the Beatles, I just couldn't do it. I really like those guys, and I probably will play them at some other time. But in my state of mind at the time, it would have been a step down, a diminishment, and I would like to explain why.

When music is set to the very words of God, and on top of that, sung with authentic joy, it has come into what it was created for. We know for certain that there was such music at the birthing of creation:

"… when the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy" (Job 38:7).

And we know there is a "new song" being sung in heaven, praising the Lamb who was slain (Revelation 5:9).

There are songs written by men that are not about God but are acceptable. There are songs written by men that are against God and are not acceptable. And then there are songs where the music is enlisted for praise. And when that happens, it is a magical confluence. It is a condensed and close-to-perfect moment of life as it is supposed to be. And it is high octane enough to get you to all the way to Michigan and back.