My mom says I was 3 when I first sang in front of the church. Apparently I knew German Christmas caroles back then. I come from a family of singers and musicians. I remember listening to a record of the Lighthouse Singers (the group my Uncle, Aunt, her sister and hubby were in). I would play it over and over, singing at the top of my lungs. Some of my favorite childhood memories include singing while my Dad played the guitar until his fingers were so sore that he had to stop me. I can still hear my voice begging, “Just one more song, Dad. Please?”
Music is how God speaks to my soul; a way for my soul to express feelings. I wake up to a song in my head nearly every morning. I don’t recall a beginning to this phenomena. There are very few times in my life that it hasn’t occurred and I am baffled when I get silence.
God has appointed me as a music missionary. Looking at my family history, I believe music is part of my heritage. My dad was a songwriter (he wrote “The Last Kiss”, about my aunt who was killed in a horrific crash, amongst other songs) and he passed that legacy on to me. Even though my right hand can’t play my beautiful “Luna” anymore (see pic), it is in my blood and I will still ask God to inspire music writing. I think I’ll take up one-handed keyboard playing.
Music is for sharing; it is one of my passions; it is MY legacy.
God send me a free to cheap keyboard!