Many Christians think worship must include a particular brand of music, and although I do love old Gospel Hymns as well as current Christian artists (my favorite being Casting Crowns), I have found worship, comfort, and healing in secular music as well. (I can feel the gasps from naysayers as I type these blasphemous words. 😉) 

Let me paint a picture:

Anyone who knows me well knows I am a huge Bon Jovi fan and have been for almost 40 years. Those same people cannot hear a Bon Jovi song without thinking about me. Bon Jovi music consumed my childhood years and a lot of my adult years. Being married to a professional musician and living in the belly of that beast both through him and my days living in Nashville and working at Belmont University, I have absolutely no stars in my eyes for celebrity. I really do not understand celebrity – except when it comes to Bon Jovi.

I can get lost on a tangent talking about them, but I digress. My point is the comfort and healing that comes from secular music.

But first, please indulge one other rabbit trail (there is a correlation here, I promise) . . . my sister recently told me that the character of Bree on Chesapeake Shores reminds her of me . . . specifically because she is an author and wrote a fictional book based on her family. I did the same – partially, anyway. (Child Eyes which you can read on my page.)

Half of the book was adapted from a rather detailed journal I kept as a kid. In it, I describe the isolation and loneliness I experienced as a child . . . and the comfort and healing I received from the music of Bon Jovi.

From Chapter 2: Andrea:

Unlike most other entertainers, Jon Bon Jovi sang of hope and perseverance. He strove hard to protect and to keep separate his personal life from his public life. He always played down his obvious good looks, focusing the critic’s and consumer’s attention back to the music. And the music? He taught me to “Stick to [my] Guns” and to hold onto “(Living on a) Prayer”. In later periods, he pleaded with me to “Keep the Faith” and urged me to go after my dreams because “It’s My Life”. I have to act now. I must embrace my strength and take life by the horns now because life won’t last forever. I must “live while I’m alive”. He promised me that, although I feel like a Monday right now, “Someday I’ll be Saturday Night”. At a time when the angry lyrics of grunge and silly boy band love songs ruled the airwaves, Bon Jovi’s encouraging anthems, reflecting the inherent good of the human spirit, saved me. I knew nothing of Jon Bon Jovi, the man. I merely borrowed his persona and created a fantasy life for myself, a life worth living. In the end, God used his music to lead me to where I am today, to mold me into the person I have become.

Their music continued to help me. In 2010, when I was undergoing cancer treatment, there were many days when I had no strength and nothing to give. My prayer life lagged. Some days, the only word I could utter in prayer was “help.”

The Bon Jovi song, Thank You for Loving Me, became a prayer. Now, every time I hear it, I am transported to that moment when I first heard the song as a prayer, and I smile. I remember the countless ways God loved me through that entire ordeal. Even now, I end most of my prayers with “I love you. Thank you for loving me more,” words inspired by that song.

During the middle of the COVID pandemic, I was at my lowest. The politics of the pandemic caused me to lose my church family and a few other things were happening in my life that made me feel more and more isolated. By the second January of the pandemic, I was in a rapid and scary emotional decline and other than my therapist and coworkers, I had no one to talk with about my experiences.

Even before this particular day, anytime I have a particularly rough day, I blast Bon Jovi music in my car as loud as I can stand it. By the time I get home, I usually feel better.

On this particular day, January 29 or 30, 2021, I got called into work for an imminent death. I cannot remember who died or the circumstances surrounding the death, but with everything going on in the world (and my world) at the time, it crushed me. I sat in my car, but I could not get myself to turn it on and drive home. I sat there rocking back and forth repeating “12, 58, 10 . . . 12, 58, 10.”

Twelve are the number of my patients who died my first year as a chaplain. 58 was the number of my patients who died that first year of the COVID-19 pandemic. 10 was the number I already had in January 2021 – in just one month – and the month was not yet over. (I ended up with two more deaths by the end of that January and a total of 108 for 2021.) I had no idea how much more I could take. I had lost so much support from people who called themselves Christians but who chose to listen to politicians over what I was seeing and experiencing first-hand.

I had no one in that moment. All I had was my go-to – Bon Jovi. As soon as I started my car and turned on my Bon Jovi Spotify channel, two Bon Jovi songs came on back-to-back – Welcome to Wherever You Are and Thank You for Loving Me. I broke down and wept. I no longer felt isolated and alone. I felt heard . . . and seen . . . and loved . . . and I knew I would be okay.

Bon Jovi is not the only secular music God uses to stop me in my tracks, get my attention, speak to me, or heal me.

I have been divorced for almost 12 years. My ex died just over 2 years ago. Just today, as I was about to walk from my office to start visiting patients, I heard our wedding song, I Don’t Know Much by Aaron Neville and Linda Ronstadt. I stopped in my tracks and had to find a corner to hide as the memories and emotions of our first dance came flooding back.

When the song ended, I went into the restroom, looked in the mirror, and had to ask God why. Why that song? Why now? It’s just not fair that one song can still get to me like that. I have finally come to a place where other songs that remind me of him can make me smile, but this song . . .

I felt God remind me of what I do for a living, the burdens people carry with them wherever they go. I was reminded of the bracelet I wear, given to survivors at a Leukemia and Lymphoma Society’s Light the Night event.

One side says “‘You cannot withstand the storm.’ The WARRIOR replied, ‘I AM the storm.’”

The other side says, “I am brave. I am strong. I am a warrior.”

Others need that reminder as well. In the words of Elton John, “A sad song says so much.”

I once struggled with the husband of a dying patient. He was bitter and angry and taking all his frustrations out on staff. I knew his anger came from a place of loneliness and pain. Still, nothing I tried seemed to get through to him. None of my normal tactics worked. One day, I shared just enough of my own pain to let him know that I had once been where he was now. Still, nothing . . . that is, until I brought up a song that reminds me of Brad (my ex) every time I hear it – Landslide by Fleetwood Mac. Brad could play the hell out of that song. Anyway, just the mention of that song opened the floodgates.

Music connected us in a way nothing else could. Music brought him (I hope) some semblance of connection and healing and hope. I have no doubt that God used some good ole’ secular music to break down the barriers between us.

I have even used secular songs in my sermon illustrations. Probably the most controversial was Lonely by Justin Bieber. (You can see the skit here).

I don’t know why we feel the need to isolate worship from the rest of life. I mean, God gave us music, too, did He not? Old Testament prophets sang their testimonies and taught the Israelites to sing them as a way to remember. Ancient peoples shared stories through song. King David wrote songs. He played musical instruments. He even danced naked.

There is no difference (in my mind) between the healing God gives in corporate church worship and the healing He gives in other mediums such as nature, art, and music. After all, God created us. He knows exactly what we need when we need it.

Christian songs have often given me the right words at the right time . . . but so has secular music. I mean, I owe my life and sanity to Bon Jovi music . . . both when I was a kid and during the worst of the pandemic. Is God not capable of using their music to bring me what I needed when I needed it? The proof is that I am still here. In other lyrics from Elton John, “I’m still standing.”