When Words Fall Short, Music Speaks

Today I keep coming back to music.

Music brings back memories.

Music shifts mood.

Music inspires.

Music pulls us out of our own heads when thoughts start looping.

Music uplifts.

Music tells stories regular words cannot.

Some songs feel like love letters.

Some feel like apologies.

Some feel like encouragement when you have none left to give yourself.

There is something about music that feels magical.

Growing up, music was always on. Cleaning stalls before school. Feeding at night. Buckets scraping, forks rattling, horses nickering in the dark. The barn radio was never silent. WIXY 100.3 FM Holstein & Company greeted me every morning and Delilah sent me off every night. It became part of the routine. Part of the place.

Music was on while cleaning the house too. Vacuum humming. Dishes clinking. Windows open. Songs filling the space. Those were the moments I got lost in lyrics and rhythm. Three or four minutes at a time.

Thinking about life. Thinking about who I was. Thinking about who I wanted to be.

Music taught me how to work and feel at the same time.

How to be alone without feeling lonely.

How to process life in small, manageable moments.

I grew up listening to Bob Kingsley and the American Country Countdown. His voice shaped my love for country music long before I understood why it mattered to me.

If you want to hear his voice again, here it is: https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLc01MhKzO05oyiVWXB9McILVSC1HCgU_T&si=Kt7sNnzZmL_BhIac

Nineties country raised me.

Reba McEntire, Wynonna Judd, Trisha Yearwood, Garth Brooks, Martina McBride, Jo Dee Messina, Pam Tillis, Mary Chapin Carpenter, Patty Loveless, Collin Raye, George Strait, The Chicks. All storytellers. All voices that knew how to say the things people feel but rarely admit.

Photo courtesy of The Boot

As I got older, Miranda Lambert came into my life and never left. Her first album will always be my favorite. Her songs carried me through high school and college.

The day I found the courage to leave a toxic marriage, she was blaring through the radio as I drove down I-74, tears rolling down my face. New Strings will always live in my bones.

Music plays a serious role in love.

It replaces love letters.

It becomes the “hey, I’m thinking about you.”

It becomes the “I’m sorry” when words fail.

Some songs still make me smile and ache at the same time.

Greatest Love Story by LANCO. She Had Me at Heads Carolina by Cole Swindell. I'm Comin' Over by Chris Young.

What Do You Say by Reba has spoken for me more times than I can count while raising my daughters.

Holes in the Floor of Heaven by Steve Wariner helped carry me through my best friend’s passing.

As I aged, my taste widened. Country still holds most of my heart, but I let other genres in when they said things I could not say out loud. Sometimes they whispered. Sometimes they screamed.

Miley Cyrus, Jax, Pitbull, HARDY, Lauren Daigle, Brandon Lake, Natalie Jane, The Lumineers, Adele, Shooter Jennings. Add in modern folk and Appalachian sounds, especially a fiddle, and I am all in. Just ask my friend Heidi about my Celtic Rap/Metal moments. HAHA!

We use music to shift energy. Road trip playlists. Psych-up playlists before rodeos and games. Music that gets your blood pumping and your focus sharp.

We use music to slow down too. Every night my kids fall asleep to a “Jesus Loves Me” playlist. The same song, sung by different artists. Reba. Joey + Rory. Every single night.

Music is always on in my life. Maybe it is anxiety. I hate silence. Maybe it is comfort. Knowing someone else felt what I felt and made it audible.

I do not know the exact reason.

I just know this.

Music is powerful.

Music is peaceful.

Music reminds us we are human.

Music holds our memories.

Music carries our courage.

Music gives our feelings somewhere to land when words fall short.

Music marks chapters of our lives.

It holds memories we did not realize we were storing.

It shows up when we need courage, comfort, or a reminder of who we are.

So here is my ask.

Pay attention to the songs you keep going back to.

Notice what they bring up.

Notice who they remind you of.

Notice what part of you they wake up.

Build the playlist on purpose.

Turn it on while you work.

Turn it on when the house is quiet.

Turn it on when life feels heavy.

And if you are willing, tell me.

What song has been there for you when nothing else knew what to say?