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A few nights ago, I posted this on my Twitter and FB accounts:
1 AM, and I just don’t want the music to stop.
This was not a metaphor for some life issue. As my energy waned, I felt my creativity draining. Yet one of my Pandora stations sang on, in the midst of songs that spurred me on.
I love music. All kinds of music. And this night the songs were cooking, each one better than the last. Finally, at 2:36 am, one of my whirling dervish, tarantella-making songs came on, and I cranked it up, shouting with the chorus, so loud that the air vents in my speakers were whuffing my hair away from my face.
There’s a reason I live in a house. 
I needed to sleep, but I literally did not want the music to stop. So I started this entry, typing madly as I sang and shouted as two more great songs followed.
No, I’m not easy to live with. Not unless you like a maniac bouncing around the house at 3am, wanting to dance instead of sleep.
And, yep, in the midst of this mania, I went back to work, typing not only this, but the next chapter of a book that’s been plaguing me.
God speaks to me through music, and I admire songwriters and musicians who can take their art to the highest level, in whatever genre.
Sing to us, speak to us, show us God’s glory. And may the music never stop.
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