I used to be a bit of a concert fanatic when I was younger. I've enjoyed the live musical stylings of individuals and groups as diverse as Rick Springfield, Boston, Roger Waters, U2, John Mellencamp, The Kinks, Toad The Wet Sprocket, The Cranberries, 10,000 Maniacs, Chicago, Donny and Marie Osmond, Pink Floyd, Hootie & The Blowfish, The Cowboy Junkies, Natalie Merchant, Sally Taylor, The Indigo Girls, Blues Traveler, The Romantics, Peter Mayer, Sarah McLachlan, Jars Of Clay, R.E.M., Garth Brooks, Brooks & Dunn, The Young Dubliners, Runaway Truck Ramp, Vince Gill, Open Road, Cake, and, well, I could keep going, but I think I've already gone on long enough ... or, more than likely, too much.
With all my exposure to various musicians, I've never experienced anything like Heaven Fest. Thousands of people wandering from stage to stage under the intense high altitude heat. I was lucky enough to enjoy Sanctus Real, Jeremy Camp, Superchick, Mercy Me, and Skillet. Great musicians all, but they weren't the focus of the day, regardless of how we all may have felt at times.
Music reaches out and touches our souls. It evokes memories like nearly nothing else, and it provokes feelings which often lie buried inside without blends of melodies and words to help them surface. There's something else that comes when listening to music focused on God. At some point, the music is less about what you're taking in, and more about what you're putting out.
Worship. That's the "something else." It's not about what He needs, because He needs nothing. Rather, it's about what we need, because we need everything. He is everything. Perfection. Even better than Donny and Marie Osmond.