I remember very clearly, as a 10 year old girl, trying to write a song about the moon with my cousins. We wrote words together, trying to make them rhyme. I clumsily attempted to create a melody, all the while feeling annoyed that I was missing the mark. My cute cousins sang our song for the family. Everyone applauded our young efforts. I felt dissatisfied. I wanted so badly to create music and felt frustrated that I didn’t know how. A loving Heavenly Father, who knows me better than I knew myself, has blessed me over and over again with renewed desire, opportunities to create, inspiration to draw from, and an expanding toolbox of skills to work with.

 

I cannot write without Him. I’ve tried. Even my dorky pieces, involving a piano, a kazoo, and a pig-latin singing quartet, I am sure he was actively involved in. Or at the very least, he giggled at my quirky attempt.

 

I love that writing sacred music brings me closer to my Savior, Jesus Christ. I love that it allows me to boldly testify of Him when I might feel shy sharing those personal feelings in other ways. I love that He feels like my partner—one who lifts me, strengthens my resolve, guides my healing, and fills me with joy. We’ve been through a lot together He and I. They say to “write about what you know”. I know my Savior. I write for Him.

 

The music I compose or arrange is really the soundtrack of my life, which I didn’t fully realize until just now. It represents my struggles, my heartaches, my loss. It also represents my growth, courage I didn’t see in myself, and a confident testimony in my Savior that needed a specific mode of expression. My joy in living the gospel of Jesus Christ, my hope in His promises, and my reliance on His atonement are all wrapped up in the songs we write together. They are a reflection of my faith.