My first panic attack was in a church building. 

I can remember vividly the way my body felt. I could have jumped out of my own skin. I couldn’t sit still and I also felt like I couldn’t breathe. Things felt like they were moving too fast around me and I couldn’t get my bearings. I had to get out of there. 

I ran out into the lobby to try and catch my breath. The service hadn’t really even started yet, it was just the music that sent me into that spiral. 

For the longest time, I hated hymns. Loathed them actually. They made my skin crawl. I couldn’t help the way that I felt, but I always really wished I could have. As soon as I would hear them, I would either turn off the music, or leave the room. I never wanted to process the hate that I felt, I just knew I couldn’t handle it. 

Fast forward 20 years, I had gotten a job that required me to drive around the state of Missouri. I loved the peaceful, quiet of the car. Sometimes I would drive 10 hours in a day and sit in silence the whole time. It was glorious. I’ve never been a person who liked a lot of noise. 

Then one of the most influential people in my life passed away, and listening to her favorite music became the only way I could see her face. It almost felt like she was sitting there with me. I could imagine her hands and legs folded, her eyes closed tightly, and a small satisfied smile on her face. There was usually a small tear rolling down her cheek as well. I could see her again, if I just turned on the music. 

That music just so happened to be hymns.

So I bit the bullet, as they say, and added the classic country hymns to my spotify playlist. I drove for hours listening to her music just so that I could see her face in my mind. Her presence always gave me such comfort, and I could feel a piece of that with her hymns after she had gone.

She was filled with God while she was here. He was her favorite thing in this life. Even though that kind of lifestyle wasn’t for me, I could look past it just to be in her presence and feel her goodness when I was with her. I learned that I could “look past” the music, too, if it meant feeling close to her again.  

It didn’t take long for me to start singing along to every song. After a little while, the music that I once hated with so much passion became a lifeblood for me. It became as needed as the air that I breathe. The music changed my heart, and I was only able to allow that because I needed to see her again, and feel her presence.

Man oh man…That God guy, He is a genius. He led me right to Him, and I didn’t even see it coming. It’s a good thing my stubbornness was no match for His gracious heart.