How I regained my faith at a Caspian show

The beauty of instrumental music is that you're not explicitly told what to think or how to feel.  You can simply close your eyes and formulate your own interpretations while the artists silently guide you through theirs.  There are no lyrics that set the tone of the song, or reveal the thoughts of the creator.  Like a piece of well done, fine art, you can listen to the same song a hundred times and it will speak to you in a multitude of ways depending on your season, your circumstances, and your mantra.  Without words, the song is able to organically flow through you, becoming something deeply personal.

With a band like Caspian, the audience is left with an unanimous reaction: happiness.

While leaving the show Tuesday night, my always encouraging and supportive cousin, Eve, held onto her good friend and guitarist, Phil's forearms in the most endearing way.  Through her frosty breath she praised him for a job well done.  "No matter how many times I see you guys play, I am always left feeling happy.  It takes so much talent to play the type of music you play and not make everyone depressed or longing to kill themselves."  Then, she put into words everything my soul was longing to shout but could not articulate. "You instill a deep rooted joy through your music."

Could it have been that my very own cousin was the answer to my pleading prayers I had lifted up just an hour earlier in the basement of that Middle Eastern restaurant?  It was there that I begged God to give someone else the revelation I was having.  It was there that my faith in Him was restored.

I love going to shows.  I love discovering music that is new to me.  But this was a holy night.

During the first two songs I found myself crammed near the stage with my Stoli Raz and seltzer, bobbing my head, closing my eyes, and swaying with the rest of the crowd to the piercing tunes oozing from Caspian's weapons of choice.  

The music was beautiful.  The notes were so tangible that I could have plucked them out of the air as they swirled around me.  

But then I realized what was really happening.

My eyes were opened. 

God was there.

I found myself being so thankful that God created beautiful things like music and that these boys were thoroughly utilizing the talents He gave them.  Whether they realized it or not, they were honoring Him by creating space for me to worship.  It was space that had always been stifled and occupied by other people's voices.  A space that longed for the expression of my very own heart, uninfluenced by anything but Caspian's instrumental background.

My soul sang a new song to the Lord.  First, I whispered quietly into my cup as I pretended to suck up the icy remains.  But soon enough, propelled by the melody, I was screaming out Jesus' name and singing Him love songs. Since God dwells in the praises of His people, I knew He was present in that space.

It wasn't only the notes swimming through the crowd of six hundred that night; it was the Holy Spirit.  Searching. Touching souls.  Waiting for someone to recognize the ultimate source of her emotion and passion that emerges with the aid of the music.  There is no giant schism between the "secular" and the "sacred."  God shows up in the most unusual of places and displays His glory.  He is so desperately after every one of us that He will use every method to wake us up, realize it's Him, and mutually grasp His heart, (even if it's enjoying loud music with an eclectic mix of people, drink in hand, underneath the aroma of falafel and tabouli).

And that's when I became myself again.  I wanted my revelation and my renewed faith in the one true, everlasting, perfectly good God to be shared with everyone.  Like Abraham bartering with God on the edge of Sodom and Gomorrah, I naturally began interceding for everyone within that room, just like I used to do.  I begged that He would show just ONE person that night where her joy and movement ultimately came from.  How the one that is touching her heart isn't Phil Jamieson and his guitar, but Jesus and his Spirit.  Just one.  

I have faith that He heard my prayers.

And I have faith that is where His heart is.