Road Trip Mixtapes

Love According to Wikipedia

I write a lot of songs. I’ve been lucky enough to write with some amazingly talented people over the years. Some famous, many not, but all very passionate about their craft. Songwriting is such a strange process because for some it’s not really a process at all; it’s more like an experience. For others it’s much more mechanical; show up at work, write some melodies, articulate some lyrics, throw in a catchy guitar riff, and move on to the next one.

Many of my songs are inspired by my woeful love life or the romantic happenings of my friends. One of the recurring themes in my lyrics and in my life is “unrequited love.” I have a skill for being captivated by the uninterested. Don’t get me wrong, this is not a cry for sympathy as much as it is a communication of empathy. Most of us have experienced that pit in our stomachs when someone we like walks into the room and we are dying to confess our feelings, but we don’t for one reason or another. Also, I imagine many of us have mustered up the courage to actually speak our heart only to be let down easy with some sort of “Thanks, but no thanks.”

Rejection hurts. Whether we are paralyzed by the fear of it or immobilized by the feelings after it, it’s painful. I read an article recently about how great music comes from broken people. For me this is true, some of my favorite songs are reflections on my least favorite moments in life.

There were the girls with whom I fell in love with the idea of them, the ladies with whom I landed quickly in the friend zone, and the women who I actually shared my feelings with only to be shot down like a bird in hunting season. Yet, I have no regret of being willing to take chances with love.

Does it hurt to not be loved back? Yes. I have been disappointed and let down by those who used me as their backup plan, as the emotional fill in or the fake boyfriend. Though, if I’m honest, I’m guilty of the same with others. Everyone wants to feel love; relational, brotherly, or otherwise. We crave it, live by it, and above all it’s part of who we are designed to be. It’s no wonder the great commandment is to love God and love others.

According to Wikipedia, “Unrequited love is love that is not openly reciprocated or understood as such, even though reciprocation is usually deeply desired. The beloved may or may not be aware of the admirer's deep affections.”

The greatest unrequited lover is Love Himself. He has deep affection for me and sometimes I am completely oblivious. Sometimes I make God the backup plan. I give Him a call when I’m a little sad or lonely. I send Him a message when things with whatever idol I’ve replaced Him with aren’t going so well. I put Him in the friend zone and only allow my ability to give and receive love to go so deep.

One of the worship leaders I played with years ago used to say, “Christians don’t tell lies they just sing them”. “...I give you my heart, I give you my soul, I live for you alone” or “All I want is you...” If Grace is God saying, “I love you” and worship is us responding “I love you too”, my worship has to be more than empty adoration sing­a­longs. I have to live love.

There is a God in Heaven who is desperately longing for a relationship with me. The beautiful part is He loved us first, with no hesitation, and put all his cards on the table. The cross stands as a shameless display to win my affection. The Groom is down on one knee, ring box open, saying, “I know you don’t really know me, but you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. I’ve been watching you for a while, your whole life in fact, I love everything you do. I see so much goodness in you. I want to spend all of my time getting to know you better from now until forever. I’d be honored if you would let me.” And sometimes I say no.

While many of my songs are about unrequited love, there’s an Author writing the poems and prose of eternity on the pages of humanity with a pen dipped in the ink of compassion. How incredible is the invitation to have a part in this love story?

Death By Cover Charge and PBR

Going to see live music is part of the fabric of life in Nashville. At one point, while I was trying to sell myself as a music producer I was getting 6-10 show invites a week in my inbox. Going to all the shows is financial suicide; death by cover charge and PBR. But the night I met Alex and Rachel, I was out to see a close friend of mine play drums with his new band. “The End” is an interesting little joint. It has all the trappings of a dive bar: the dim lighting, the poster-littered walls, and the big sound guy who’s been there since country was cool the first time. That particular night it seemed like all of the hipsters were in a match to see who could have the skinniest jeans and the most artsy fedora. The room felt like a Hollywood caricature of the Nashville scene; like some director filled the room with pretty people straight out of an Urban Outfitters catalogue. I remember thinking, “Where are all of these people in real life? I never see them out in the wild.”

Alex and Rachel were one of those unbelievably good looking couples. We began chatting while the stage was being reset for the next band. There was small talk for a bit and then I happened to ask how the two of them met.

“eHarmony” Alex said.

I honestly thought he was joking at first, but he went on to tell the story. Alex was new in town and didn’t know anyone. He signed up for the service and met Rachel just a couple weeks later. They were just friends at first but it quickly became something deeper. My conversation with the pretty hipster couple didn’t go much further as the next band came on and the noise drowned out our chatter.

Later that week, I received an email informing me I could make a profile and try a free weekend on one of the online dating sites. I gave it a shot. I went out with Erica, the feisty sarcastic hairdresser who was slightly less attractive than profile pictures lead me to believe; Angie, the nanny who tried to get me in bed after the first date; and Danielle, the bartender who would have been perfect if she knew as much about Jesus as she did about Jersey Shore. I decided three strikes were enough for me, and that was the end of my online dating adventure.

The thing about the online approach is that while a profile page can give you a picture of someone, tell you about them, let you know how much you have in common; a profile is not, in and of itself, a relationship. It leaves much to be desired: the inflections of a voice, the gentle touch of another’s skin, the goodness in someone’s eyes are the things you cannot experience from a website.

In the beginning all you have to build on are common interests, past experiences that are similar, and the weather. It’s fairly mechanical for a while. As the relationship progresses the data you’ve collected about each other starts to make way for a deeper connection. I cerebrally know you love sushi because we talked about it over coffee. I make us a dinner reservation at a Sushi restaurant and now we have a shared experience, which leads to learning more information. The cycle continues as long as the relationship does. And slowly but surely that profile becomes a person.

I wonder if Scripture is like God’s eHarmony page to humanity. Move past the obvious irony and consider it for a moment. The written word gives us a picture of who God is, but it is not the relationship itself. It’s a starting point, but not an end. John tells us the “Word” has existed since the beginning. It was the Word that brought creation to life and that same Word that became human and gave up His life to redeem the very creation He once formed.