Our June Tunesday theme is *a duh de duh duhhh* pure unadulterated happy songs.
I just finished the 100 Happy Days project over on Instagram; I’m in the middle of a devotional series on joy; and then without realizing the connections, I managed to pick this theme based on this quote:
“What is one to say about June, the time of perfect young summer, the fulfillment of the promise of the earlier months, and with as yet no sign to remind one that its fresh young beauty will ever fade.”
It seems I may have happiness on the brain. Unfortunately, this means that I am a bit over writing about and thinking about and talking about happiness. What a great way to kick the month off, am I right?! The truth is that I am just over my own perspective. I look forward to what songs Jeremy, Katherine, and Jason choose for this month because I am thirsty for some fresh takes on the subject. Without discussing it, we always go in different directions, interpret the theme in unique ways. By the end of each month, I feel closer to them and closer to understanding how differently people see the world.
Over myself or not, today is my day. I dug into my childhood, as I often do, looking for those early feelings of joy, unafraid (unaware even) that it could fade. Songs that have been with me for years often carry the most emotional baggage, and I find songs from my past, with their long histories, are often the easiest to write about. I learned “This Little Light” early on, and I was taught that the “light” was the love and peace awarded me by my faith. Shine it, spread it. The arrangements sung in church were joyful but never so raucous as the version Neko Case recorded on her live album, The Tigers Have Spoken. This version always lifts my mood. In fact, I have skipped the track at times I wanted to stay a little blue. It’s loud and fast and pure, and I meet God there. It reminds me of that childhood lesson, of the simplicity of the light, and how I hope some of the angels have banjos and plenty of plywood for flat-footing rather than harps and cantatas. That’s an eternity I can get down to.