Holy Listening: When Songwriting Becomes Prayer
Years ago, I made an agreement with God in prayer that transformed how I wrote music. I kept getting stuck in a cycle of self-sabotage during my creative time.
Usually, my songwriting process looked like sitting at the guitar or piano with an open heart. I’d strum or pluck a few chords, getting a mood and key that I liked, and I would start praying as I put the longing in my heart to music.
Inevitably, I’d have this nagging thought that this song could be used for something. My practical brain would quickly overtake my creative heart.
I’d think to myself, “This could resonate with my church.” And I’d launch into strategy mode, thinking through how I would envision the song with drums and electric guitars. Before long, I was taken out of the moment of worship and creativity and brought into productivity mode.
I want to share with you a significant paradigm shift I experienced years ago that completely freed my songwriting process:
Practical songwriting conflicts with prayerful worship.
Feeling the fear of loss is the best sign of real surrender.
Songwriting becomes prayer when our only goal is to connect with God.
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1. Practical songwriting conflicts with prayerful worship.
What I feared was the loss of something precious and spiritually transcendent that I felt I was tapping into during those sacred moments of worship.
Songwriting can be a task, or it can be holy listening, much like many of you on Substack experience every time you open up your internet browser to craft a new post.
My holy listening was getting constantly interrupted, so God and I had a talk.
I knew that some of my songs were truly meant to be used for the worship of the church or for a recording project. Others were meant to be private prayers that God was using to form my heart in his love.
I needed a plan to separate the songs that would be lifted to God as a passing-away offering, and the ones that needed to be written down and crafted into a finished work.
God showed me a perfect compromise. Showing up to write a song would always be a sacrifice of worship. I’d pour out my heart in praise and prayer, not worrying about how to archive and produce an entire song, and if a particular song was meant for more, God would keep it in my memory.
2. Feeling the fear of loss is the best sign of real surrender.
The first time I tried out this method, that intrusive thought emerged. I had a sudden fear that this song was a song that people would connect with. I could feel the surrender as I closed my notebook, turned off my voice memo recorder, and just sang and played.
But my worship became solely for God, and my ears were focused on him alone.
I realized that even if a powerful song came through my heart and into the atmosphere, escaping my memory, the cost of the sacrifice would be the test of my free-will gift.
Over time, this became a freedom for me.
My songwriting turned into a place of holy listening again. I learned to not just show up to do a task, but to enter into a place of anticipation and meditation. I learned that songwriting is not just about producing, but about abiding in Christ.
3. Songwriting becomes prayer when our only goal is to connect with God.
When you write songs, there is a constant pressure to please people. But I’ve found that the greatest freedom comes when songwriting becomes a prayer-filled conversation. Eventually, God puts his hand on a song and gives me the peace to share it with others, but until then, my creativity is simply communion with the Holy Spirit.
If you’re a Christian songwriter, I encourage you to consider making such a deal with God. Choose the path of prayer, and watch as God makes your music deeper, richer, and closer to his heart.
