This peppy song by Stephen Curtis Chapman has been a favorite of mine since college, but it’s not my CDs that have this song blaring out these days; it’s Kaitlyn’s.
The Praise Pals and Kings’ Kids children’s choirs at our church are presenting the musical “Under God’s Sea In 3D” in May, and one of the songs they are performing is “Dive”. Well, it’s almost “Dive” as we know it. There are a few tweaks. In this version it’s the ocean, not the river, that’s deep and wide, and there are some funky key changes going on, but the song is unmistakable as “Dive”. As we listen to the practice CD (over and over and over) in the car, tooling down the road and singing along with abandon, I can’t help but remember why this song is such a favorite of mine.
Where some people get a memory from a smell or a picture, I get great memories unlocked by audio: songs, quotes, things of that nature. I mean, the song is good on it’s own, but for me the awesome comes in when it transports me back 10 years, and suddenly I’m in the car with one of my best friend’s in the world, Mandy. We’re on our way to our friend Diana’s lake house and we have this CD cranked up. We know every word, and I’m pretty sure we had unofficial choreography. We are young and free; in that moment in love with life and every part of it, and in love with God. We are abandoned and our souls are as light as the cloud of hair the breeze from the open windows has created; chestnut brown hair is everywhere, even as we tuck it back behind our sunglasses. The song ends and one of us punches repeat to bring it back to the beginning of the song. We time our arrival to the lake house to make sure the song is on. I’m sure we had to stop for gas. I think we argued about directions. I’m positive Mandy got exasperated with me when I made us stop so I could go to the bathroom again, especially after she warned me against all that Sprite (1 part best friend, 1 part big sister who sometimes thinks she’s my mom). But we enjoyed that moment, as we were in joy.
That song was the anthem of water-vacations. The lake. The beach. Mandy and I had a vast repretoire of car songs (and one of our beach trips may or may not have included a karaoke machine), but this one always made an appearance. I’ve heard it, sung it, thought it, hummed it more times than I could count.
But the memory it unlocks is that one trip to the lake house. That one moment in the trip; that one side of that time in my life; that joyinside of me bubbling over to where I could let my hair down, throw my hands up, sing out, and dive in.