Autumn’s Notes

The other day, my girls climbed into a friend’s car for a quick ride. Before their seatbelts were even buckled, one of them asked brightly, “Do you have a worship playlist?”

Our friend laughed, pleasantly surprised, and said, “I don’t think I do, but we can find one.”

I smiled later when I heard the story. Because just a year ago, those same girls were begging to hear the latest pop hits — songs with catchy beats that made it hard to say no. But as I listened, I realized the lyrics weren’t just harmless noise. Many of these songs quietly communicated ideas about who we are, how we should seek love, or what gives life meaning — messages that often prioritized self-gratification, appearance, or fleeting popularity over kindness, humility, and God’s truth. It wasn’t always blatant or easy to spot, but I could feel how the world was whispering its own story to them through the music they loved, shaping their hearts in ways I didn’t want to ignore.

That realization stirred something in me. I didn’t want to just take music away — I wanted to pour something better in.

But I also had to admit something: even though I often listened to worship music by myself in the car, it wasn’t something I shared much with the girls. Those quiet solo drives had always felt like sacred time for me and the Lord — a little moving sanctuary between the chaos of home and the bustle of the day. I hesitated to play those songs with the kids in tow because, let’s be honest, car rides with children are rarely peaceful. They’re loud, full of chatter, snack requests, and the constant push of the pause and play button. I didn’t want to turn what felt holy and restorative into something stressful.

But when I finally did start playing worship music with them, I was so pleasantly surprised. Instead of interrupting something sacred, it multiplied it. The laughter, the off-key singing, the joy — it all became worship, too.

So we started exploring other genres of worship music — everything from worship pop to Christian rap, acoustic praise, and even a little worship rock. I told the girls there’s no rule that says music for God has to sound a certain way. Before long, we discovered artists who truly spoke to their hearts — names like Forest Frank, Anne Wilson, Micah Tyler, and Colton Dixon — and our playlists began to grow in the sweetest way. These artists sing songs that remind our kids who they are in Christ, that in Him we are made whole, and that gently pour into their hearts the very truths we want them to carry — the Lord’s message of love, identity, and hope.

Now, when they climb into the car, they don’t ask for the latest Hollywood chart-topper. They ask for “Your Way Is Better,” “My Jesus,” or a song they recently learned at youth gathering — and then sing it at the top of their lungs the whole ride. And the sound that fills our car isn’t just melody — it’s Scripture, truth, and joy being planted deep in their spirits.

What amazes me most is how naturally it’s become part of them. They’ll be brushing their hair and humming lyrics from Lion by Elevation Worship or playing Barbies in the next room and I’ll hear them having a “concert” while their dolls sing Raise a Hallelujah. They’ll sing a lyric that’s actually a line of Scripture and not even realize it. It’s a small yet powerful reminder that what we pour into our children shapes what pours out of them.

Music is one of the most powerful tools God’s given us to shape our hearts. It has this beautiful way of slipping past all the noise and settling deep inside, where it really sticks. And when that music is filled with the truth of who Jesus is — His goodness, His faithfulness, His love — it doesn’t just lift our mood, it strengthens us. It becomes something our kids can carry with them into the world — a kind of shield, a reminder that they’re never walking alone.

We can’t shield our kids from every message the world throws at them. But we can fill their hearts — and their playlists — with songs that remind them who they are and whose they are. Songs that encourage, heal, and point them back to the truth of God’s love.

This week, try putting on a new worship song the next time you’re in the car. Sing with your kids. Let them see that worship isn’t just for Sunday mornings — it’s for car rides and grocery runs and long days that need a little hope. You might be surprised by how quickly the soundtrack of your home changes, too.

Until next week,

May your car rides be filled with songs that lift His name, your home overflows with love and laughter, and your heart finds rest in His promises.
-A.