Writing about things that matter (to me)
I was slightly terrified when Federico asked me to cover Apple Music’s new Sound Therapy feature because music isn’t a topic I write about often. Trying to explain and test scientifically enhanced songs that are supposed to help you focus was certainly a new challenge. But I enjoyed diving into the feature and actually found it to be beneficial; I might even stick with it now that my testing is over.
You can read my full impressions of Sound Therapy over at MacStories.
Hamilton has a special place in my heart. Katherine and I love the musical so much that when we got engaged last year, the first big purchase we made together was a set of tickets to go see it when it came to Tulsa. (We also played a song from the soundtrack as the walk-in music at our wedding!) And so we were ecstatic when, a couple of weeks ago, we finally got the chance to see Hamilton live.
The show was amazing. It’s like an opera in that there’s no dialogue, only singing (and a lot of rapping), so I already knew every word. But seeing it performed live and acted out on stage really brought the music to life and made the experience of hearing it that much more powerful. We laughed, we cried (literally), and we had just the best time seeing our favorite show.
I’m still reeling from the experience. It was something I won’t soon forget. And so I thought I’d take the time this week to share my love of Hamilton with you in the form of the biggest lesson it’s taught me. I’ve spent a lot of time with the soundtrack to this show, and it’s had a profound impact on me both emotionally and intellectually. While there’s a lot to be taken away from it, there’s one thing that I keep coming back to:
I’ve never felt more patriotic than I do when I listen to the Hamilton soundtrack. That may sound strange, especially coming from me, but let me explain.
If you’ve been around here for long, you know that I’m not shy about criticizing my country. We have a lot of issues right now, and we’ve gotten a lot of things wrong throughout our history that are still hurting countless people today. But the older I get and the more I learn about the world, the more I appreciate the unique things that the U.S. has contributed to the world and especially the ideals behind those contributions.
As you’d imagine, Hamilton tells the story of Alexander Hamilton, the immigrant founding father who served as George Washington’s secretary, argued for the Constitution, founded the first national bank, and is now commemorated on our $10 bill. But in telling his story, it also covers a good deal of the history surrounding the Revolutionary War, the founding of the United States, and the growing pains the nation faced in its infancy. I knew the gist of this story from school, but seeing and hearing it played out through the characters in the show shed a different light on the history for me.
It forced me to imagine what it was like for the actual people living at the time—not just the big names, but for the common people whose names are lost to time. In a period of unrest and uncertainty, these people were growing up, getting married, having children, working to provide for themselves, and trying to find their place in the world. Real people with real concerns and real stakes were living out this story that we hear and celebrate all the time but have become so distanced from ourselves.
For them, this wasn’t a story. It was real, everyday life. Their very lives and livelihoods were at stake. And they chose to undergo such danger and uncertainty because they believed in ideals that to them were worth fighting for.
Ideals like democracy, giving everyone a voice in the way that they’re governed. And religious liberty, the freedom for individuals to worship however they see fit. And equality, the belief in fundamental rights guaranteed to every single human being. Hamilton and others—real people—fought for these ideals. They founded the nation on them. And that is something to be proud of.
To be clear, their implementation of these ideals was not perfect. Not by a long shot. And we still have yet to fully live up to them today. But one thing I learned from the musical is that, even at the time, there was debate. There were people who were pushing for these ideals to be taken to their fullest extent all the way back then.
Of course, Hamilton was one of them, but there were others. People like his sister-in-law Angelica Schuyler Church, who sings about gender equality in “The Schuyler Sisters”:
We hold these truths to be self-evident
that all men are created equal,
and when I meet Thomas Jefferson,
I’mma compel him to include women in the sequel!
And people like John Laurens, Hamilton’s fellow patriot who spoke out against slavery and tried to helped enslaved people win their freedom by taking part in the revolution. In “My Shot,” he raps,
But we will never be truly free
until those in bondage have the same rights as you and me.
You and I, do or die, wait ‘til I sally in
on a stallion with the first black battalion.
And then there’s Elizabeth Schuyler Hamilton, my favorite character of all. Not only does Eliza show herself to be, as Hamilton calls her, “the best of wives and best of women,” but she also represents the American ideal that I most value: compassion for those in need. In the final song (“Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story”), she sings about her greatest accomplishment:
Can I show you what I’m proudest of?
I established the first private orphanage in New York City.
I help to raise hundreds of children.
I get to see them growing up.
…
And when my time is up, have I done enough?
Will they tell my story?
I’m happy to say that Eliza’s story is being told through this musical. Her story and the stories of these other trailblazers who fought to form this nation into a place where everyone is free, valued, and treated equally—these stories are so inspiring to me. These people are my heroes. And when I hear about them, they instill in me a pride for my country that I haven’t ever felt before.
Hamilton teaches me that I live in a country founded not just by the typical, powdered-wig-clad founding fathers we see depicted all the time, but also by immigrants who wanted to found a place better than where they came from, poor people looking to make a life for themselves, women seeking equality, and slaves fighting not just for freedom from England but for freedom from their slavedrivers right here at home.
America is a place where the poor, the oppressed, and the forgotten can change their lives and change the world. Where we can all work together to ensure that every single person has a chance to thrive. Where ideals like equality, democracy, and compassion aren’t just ideas we believe in, but realities we’re actively working towards. That’s the America that Hamilton strove to create, and I find it beautiful.
We aren’t there yet, but I believe we can get there. If we allow ourselves to be reminded by stories like Hamilton what we’re working towards, then we can make it a reality. It won’t be easy. We’ll need great minds like Alexander’s, bold personalities like Angelica’s, and big hearts like Eliza’s, but our generation has an opportunity to be great, like theirs was, and make a positive impact on history.
This show inspires me to take pride in this unique place I’m blessed to live in. It also inspires me to love this place enough to try to make it better, to push it to live up to what it was meant to be. And I am so grateful to the musical, to its cast, and to its creator Lin-Manuel Miranda for that gift of inspiration.
Hamilton means so much to me. It’s taught me a lot, and I’m better for having heard it and seen it. My hope is that I can take what it’s taught me and use it to make my country and the world a better place. That’s a lot to ask of a musical, but this one certainly lives up to it.
As Alexander reminds us over and over throughout the show, we each only have one shot at this life. One shot to make a difference, to improve things for others, to form the world into what we want it to be. He used his chance to make the world a better place. I want to do the same.
Hamilton didn’t throw away his shot, and neither will I. Will you?
One of the biggest rumors going around the tech blogosphere lately is that Apple will finally, after years of neglect, put iTunes out of its misery. And yesterday, the company officially confirmed this to be true. Some are mourning the loss of what was once a great piece of software, while others are rejoicing at its death like the munchkins in The Wizard of Oz. To be honest, it’s a long time coming. But that doesn’t make me any less sad about it.
You’d be forgiven if you had to ask, “What the heck is iTunes, and why are all the nerds riled up about it?” It hasn’t been a part of popular culture for a while. But back in its heyday, iTunes was the place to purchase music online.
When you plugged in your iPod (remember those?) to your computer, iTunes would instantly appear, dutifully ready to help you sync your songs, art, and playlists with ease. Or if you wanted to hear the latest banger, you could head over to the iTunes Store, purchase it for a buck, and start listening within seconds. The whole process was fast, easy, and convenient, and it made music accessible to everyone in a new way.
To say that iTunes changed the music industry would be an understatement. When music started going digital with the advent of MP3 players, people were getting music one of two ways: either they went to the store, bought an entire CD, and ripped it to their computer… or they stole it from any number of pirating websites.
CDs were expensive and annoying. Why pay so much money and go through the trouble of ripping a disc just for a couple of songs you like? Not to mention having to manually enter song names and track down album art to keep everything organized and pretty. Buying physical music was simply more trouble than it was worth.
So a significant number of people were turning to piracy, not because they didn’t want to support artists, but because the physical music system wasn’t compatible with new digital methods of listening. Consumers weren’t happy with the options available, and music makers weren’t happy that their stuff was being passed around illegally. Seeing this dilemma, Apple decided to capitalize on it. And thus, iTunes was born.
Having the ability to buy individual songs—rather than entire albums—and easily string those songs into playlists that could be taken anywhere was revolutionary. In the world of streaming, we‘ve become accustomed to having our music available to us anytime, anywhere. But back in the early days of iTunes, this concept was groundbreaking, and it changed everything.
The music industry was never the same again. The structure of songs and albums shifted drastically. The distance between artists and their fans nearly vanished, making space for a much deeper connection than ever possible before. And thanks to the iPod and iTunes, Apple became a household name at a time when average consumers had no idea what a Mac even was.
That’s an incredible story, and it’s one that gets told a lot in the tech world. But if that was all there was to it, no one would really care that iTunes is going away in 2019. Music streaming has taken over, and people use their phones as their primary computers now. It’s time move on, right?
The problem with that—and the reason so many techies like myself have such strong feelings about this development—is that iTunes has had a profound impact on so many people’s lives. It wasn’t just about selling songs and iPods. To me at least, iTunes was so much more than that.
Everyone who lives in the Apple ecosystem remembers their first Apple product. The thing that drew them in, showed them what the company could offer, and led them to integrate those products more and more into their lives. The thing that showed them that spark of magic and wonder Apple integrates into everything they do. It’s something you never forget.
For me, that first Apple product wasn’t a computer. It wasn’t a phone or even an iPod. My very first Apple product, the thing that got me interested in this company that‘s such a big part of my life now, was none other than iTunes.
I was a kid with no relationship whatsoever with music. The only songs I knew were from church and the country radio station my mom played in her van. I had no taste and, honestly, no interest in music. But then I somehow got my hands on an iTunes gift card (one of the most popular gifts to give to kids at that time), and all of that changed.
Suddenly, I could look up any song I wanted, and if I liked it, it could instantly be mine. I was amazed! I started looking up the few songs I knew from MySpace and clicking the related links underneath to find more like them. I fell in love with music. Over time, I carefully curated a library of my favorite music, and I listened to it all the time, right there at the desk in my family’s kitchen.
Music became my identity as a teenager. I prided myself on keeping up with unknown artists and telling other people about them. I burned countless CDs and gave them to my friends as gifts. (I actually burned so many CDs that iTunes issued me a piracy warning.) When life got hard or confusing or even just exciting, I always had a playlist handy to help me work through whatever I was feeling. It’s no exaggeration to say that my music library was my most prized possession at the time.
More Apple products followed. One year, I got an iPod Shuffle for Christmas. The next year, it was the first-generation iPod Touch. Then came the iPhone 3G. For my high school graduation, I asked my parents for a MacBook Pro. After that came a string of so many iPads. Now, I’m known as an Apple fanboy by my friends and family. And it all started with a little program called iTunes.
My relationship with music changed as I got older, as these things do. I found other passions. Every once in a while, something will come along that re-sparks my interest in music. A few years ago, it was Apple Music. More recently, I invested in a couple of HomePods and started listening more. But no matter where my relationship with music goes now, it will always be tied in my mind to those hours I spent as a bright-eyed kid browsing iTunes and forging my music identity.
Like many, though, I have had my heart broken by changes made to iTunes. I’ve watched the app morph over the years into something nearly unrecognizable. The iTunes Store eventually added movies, TV shows, and podcasts all within the same program. When the iPhone came out, it became the place to sync over not only your music, but also your apps, photos, contacts, documents, and everything else you might want on your phone. Apple decided a few years ago to get into the streaming music game, so it tacked Apple Music onto iTunes in a way so crude that it’s nearly unusable.
No, iTunes is not what it once was. It’s become cluttered to a point that many who used to be its biggest fans now hate what it has become. There have been cries within the tech community for iTunes to be broken up ever since Apple took a more segmented approach on iOS, releasing separate apps for music, podcasts, movies/TV shows, and app downloads. The iTunes behemoth just doesn’t make sense anymore. The tech world mostly agrees that it has to go so that it can be replaced by a series of smaller, more focused apps, which is exactly what Apple is planning to do.
But it will be missed. Despite its flaws, iTunes was incredible when it came to discovering, curating, and listening to music. Back before streaming took over, music libraries mattered, and no other app held a candle to iTunes when it came to managing huge collections. And for that, iTunes deserves to be remembered fondly.
I admit that I was sad yesterday when I heard the news that Apple will be officially sunsetting iTunes in this year’s big Mac update. I’m sure that the new Music app will be great and serve us very well for years to come, but I’ll always have a special place in my heart for the original.
iTunes changed the music industry, and in that way, it changed the world. But more than that, it had a huge impact on me during a vulnerable, formative time of my life. For that, I’ll be forever grateful.
So here’s to you, iTunes. You served us well. Now may you rest in peace with the CDs you replaced all those years ago.
I don’t listen to a ton of music, but every once in a while, I come across an album that just captures me. I almost get obsessed with it. I’ll put it on repeat and listen to it so many times that I memorize every word, every instrumental break, and every transition on the record. I saturate my mind with it until I finally, eventually, maybe get it out of my system.
I recently experienced this phenomenon with an album called Solar by Christian hip hop artist nobigdyl. His music is catchy and fun for the most part, but there’s a depth to everything he does that draws me in. The track that has particularly stuck with me is one towards the end of the album called “Close.” It’s a very personal song in which the artist openly confesses his sin and the pain that it’s caused. Upon listening, I was struck by its honesty and vulnerability. So I put it on loop and really let it sink in.
nobigdyl. directs the first verse towards his wife. He confesses that he’s been keeping secrets from her, going so far as to say that he put his vows to the side. His sin has led him to the brink of suicide. In his despair, he tells his wife that she would be better off without him, that she should leave him and move on.
And then we get a beautiful image. His wife grabs him by the face. He can feel her wedding band pushing into his jaw. She tells him she isn’t going anywhere, no matter what he’s done. Then, looking into each other’s eyes, they have this conversation:
I said, “Baby girl, you don’t have to take this.”
She said, “Boy, you’re gonna have to face it.”
When I heard that line, I was blown away and a little confused. The verse seems like it’s moving towards forgiveness, and then it suddenly ends with the victim telling the perpetrator that he’s going to have to deal with what he’s done.
It happens in the second verse, too. There, the artist is talking to God about his struggles and his feelings of inadequacy. He feels completely lost, and he knows it’s all his fault. Suddenly, he feels the Spirit of God speaking to him, assuring him that all the bad things he’s done are already forgiven by Christ’s work on the cross. Then they have this exchange:
I said, “Lord, I cannot repay this.”
He said, “Boy, you’re gonna have to face it.”
I forgive you for what you’ve done; you’re going to have to face it. These statements may strike you as contradictory at first. They certainly did me. That’s part of the reason I listened to the song so many times. And the more I listened and reflected on it, the more it made sense.
We often think of forgiveness as letting people off the hook. Letting things go. Forgetting that the offense ever happened. We think that once someone says, “I forgive you,” that’s the end of it. What’s done is done, and there’s never any need to address it again. I’m not so sure.
This viewpoint portrays forgiveness as the end of a journey. Something bad has happened, it’s been worked through, and now it’s time to forgive and forget. Maybe that works for some people. But in my experience (and, if I’m not mistaken, the experience of this artist), forgiveness is much less the end of a process than it is the beginning of one.
Forgiving someone doesn’t happen once they’ve made things right. After all, if things have already been made aright, what is there to forgive? Grace isn’t meant to be withheld until it’s earned; otherwise, it’s no grace at all. Really, it’s meant to be the first step of many.
When we choose to forgive someone, we aren’t saying that what they did is OK. We aren’t saying that we’ve healed from the effects of their actions. We aren’t saying that every part of the relationship has been restored. Instead, we’re saying, “I’m not giving up on you because of this. Together, we’re going to do the hard work of fixing the damage that you’ve done. I’m here.”
Ultimately, forgiveness is costly. It costs both the person forgiving and the person being forgiven. Rather than ignore what happened or just give up altogether, both parties are choosing to face the reality of their situation and deal with it head-on. To confront the underlying issues at play, fix the problems rather than the symptoms, and heal the hurt through time and togetherness. It’s probably the most painful way forward, but it’s also the one that leads to reconciliation. As the chorus of the song says,
I wanna hold you close.
I’ll never let you go.
Come let me in your arms.
I wanna hold you close.
Forgiveness costs a lot. But it’s worth every bit, because it’s the only way to truly find healing and wholeness in this life. Whether it means fixing mistakes that we’ve made or offering grace to a loved one who’s wronged us, may we each choose to do the hard work of forgiveness, today and every day.
I spent last week at a church camp in Orange Beach, AL, with my church’s youth group, and we had a great time. The worship leader was a musician named Stephen Miller. He and his band performed a lot of the typical worship songs, ones that most people there would instantly know and be able to sing along to. But my favorite songs were his originals, the ones we had to learn throughout the week. One in particular, called Our God Majestic, really spoke to me, so I thought I’d share it with you.
Hope is not always an easy thing to hold on to. We each constantly face the temptation to fall into the trap of discouragement. And I’ve been keenly aware of that struggle lately. My heart is heavy, the world seems like a pretty dark place, and I honestly don’t know that it’s going to get better anytime soon.
That’s why I’m so thankful for this song and the encouragement that it’s been to me. The lyrics, especially the first verse and chorus, have reminded me of truths that I really needed to hear, and I’ve been singing the lyrics over and over and over.
Every nation, every throne upon your shoulder.
Every government will bow to your command.
Even as the hearts of men are growing colder,
Your promise will stand.
Your promise will stand.
No matter how evil the powers that be in this world might become, God is still in control. They are still subject to him. He has chosen to allow evil and brokenness to have their reign for a time, but they are not the final word or authority. God is, and everything that takes place is doing so within the context of his divine plan. The powers that be in this world are only temporary; their reign will end.
After all, believers are not truly citizens of any earthly nation, and we don’t truly serve any earthly ruler. We belong to the kingdom of God, which is a different kind of kingdom with a different kind of king. It doesn’t rely on violence, hatred, or control to exercise its power. Rather, it is based on love, peace, and freedom. No matter what the nations of the earth may do, I know that I belong to a greater kingdom that is coming, and when it does, all will be set right.
It feels like the hearts of many are becoming cold. Like humankind is becoming callous to the atrocities taking place in our world. Like desensitization has completely set in and we just don’t care anymore. Like we’ve lost our collect sense of morality and compassion. But I can rest in the fact that God’s kingdom will always stand, and there will always be those who stay true to it and its principles. I can’t change others on my own, but I can be an agent of change in the world by seeking to make his kingdom a reality in my life. And if I put my effort towards this goal, then my work won’t be fruitless.
We take heart, for the Lord is here.
Our God majestic is greater than our fears.
There’s nothing broken that he can’t heal.
Our God majestic will wipe away our tears.
You’ll wipe away our tears.
God’s presence offers us a comfort unlike any other. We never have to be discouraged or afraid because no matter where we go or what situation we find ourselves in, he is always with us. And if he is with us, then he will take care of us. There is nothing more fulfilling or assuring than doing life with him.
He can’t protect us from every bad thing that happens. There are natural consequences of the world’s brokenness that simply cannot be avoided. And there are other evils that could be avoided but aren’t. Regardless, God can’t shield us from every pain, but he can heal us from every pain. He can heal me of the hurt I’m feeling. He can heal my loved ones of everything they’re going through. And he can heal every person who is oppressed, abused, neglected, and cast aside of the trauma and heartache forced upon them. My heart breaks for them, and even though there’s very little I can do for them, I can rest in knowing that God is with them, ready and willing to heal them of even the most tragic of pain.
And in the end, that’s exactly what he’ll do. He has an ultimate plan for the world, and that plan will come to fruition. When it does, all of the pain and suffering that we endure will be forgotten in light of him, his presence, and his healing. In the end, God will set all things right and make all things new. He’s able to do so, and he will in his time.
So if you’re like me and struggling with feelings of discouragement or hopelessness, I hope you’ll give the song a listen. It’s packed full of truths that we all need to hear from time to time. Maybe it’ll be an encouragement to you. It certainly has been to me. Thanks to Stephen Miller for writing and performing such a wonderful song. If you get a chance to listen to it, I’d love to hear what you think!
That’s all from me this week. Thanks for reading, and I’ll see you next Tuesday.
