On July, 4, 2014 I walked into my parents house after spending the day with my favorite family in Yorba Linda, the Straughters. My brother was sitting downstairs watching the Wawa Welcome America 4th of July Jam on television and we began talking about music festivals in Philadelphia. One thing lead to another and in a spur of the moment decision, I bought two tickets to Made In America Music Festival in Los Angeles for Jameel and I to attend Labor Day weekend. Excited, we spent the rest of night going through the lineup and discussing how we would approach the weekend and it looked like another brotherly adventure was in the works.
Then I woke up the next morning,
Was I dreaming?
realized I had just spent $400 to go see a list of artists I don't even listen to when it's free,
What was I thinking? What a waste of money?
and I immediately started trying to justify why I would still go anyway.
I mean, I'm not gonna throw away $400. At least it will be some quality time with Jameel. I know it means a lot to him.
But ever since then, I haven't been able to shake the feeling that I shouldn't be going to Made In America.
See, music and I have a complicated relationship. I love her, but she has an influence on me unlike anyone or anything else in this world. I mean, I'm about as whipped as they come because I'd pretty much do anything she tells me to. Even when it doesn't make sense, I tend to follow her lead and mimic her ways. And it's always been that way. I still remember being 5'6", 145 pounds wearing 3X Tall Pro Club White Tees just because Dem Franchize Boyz told me to. Foolish, I know.
But it took me awhile to realize that music had me wrapped around her finger that way. I didn't quite get that I started cussing shortly after getting to college and downloading the unedited version of every club song I could find. I didn't always associate what I wanted from women with having a playlist full of artists like 112 and Ne-Yo. Nor did I understand that I was significantly more hostile after adding a variety of Philly rappers to my library. It was only through some honest Self examination that I came to the conclusion that music does more than speak to my soul, it feeds it.
It's for this reason I don't willingly listen to secular music. Obviously, I can't avoid it all but I'm very conscious about what I feed my Self. I found it's easier to avoid sin when I continually feed my soul with godly music. I always tell my teenagers when the conversation of sex comes up, if you really want to kill 'the mood', start playing Jesus Be a Fence. If you want to avoid road rage, listen to Happy by Tasha Cobbs while you drive. If you want to fight the temptation of smoking weed, listen to Lecrae's Blow Your High next time you want to roll up. By feeding my soul with God, it leaves little room for Satan to reside.
But not only does this Soul Food keep me away from sin, it draws me closer to God. I've found it's easier to be obedient when I spend my morning listening to Say Yes by Shekinah Glory. It's easier to be humble when I meditate on What Can I Do by Tye Tribbett. And to remember God expects me to choose a side, I listen to Da' Truth's Gray. So music and I have an understanding that what she feeds me has to be positive because it's been proven I am what I eat. Any other message she feeds me contributes to the high cholesterol that is the sin living in me.
And that's why I won't be attending Made In America this weekend. Not because it's a sin to go or because it will make me sin; I don't believe either of those to be true. But because if I go and indulge in the soul food that these artists have to offer, it will be a step backwards and I'm determined to keep Moving Forward.
But I won't lie, I'm still not exactly excited to be out $400.
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