My name is Rachel, and I am really thankful that you’re taking the time to read my story. Music, to me, is storytelling. When I was fourteen years old, I asked my dad to teach me how to play ‘You and Tequila’ by Kenny Chesney, and within a couple of hours, I knew just enough chords to begin to write a story of my own. I hope that you, upon hearing any of these songs, are able to hear your own story.

I spent much of my childhood exploring a small canyon in northern CA, kicking up red dust while squinting at the snow-peaked mountains on the horizon. Sounds poetic, I suppose, but I only really cared about the lizards I caught. Trying to keep up with my older brother was my greatest challenge. I experienced bliss when I was very young, and the trauma of a fallen world met me later.

The latter half of my adolescent years were spent in northern VA. Mountains became my best friends, and my only real goals were trail-related. My mom would have a heart attack if she knew how often I hiked alone. But those lonely miles of tripping and looking over my shoulder into the woods gave me the space and time I needed to hear the voice of the Creator.

My story is not unlike yours, I assume. You have some scars. You have had your heart broken in the hands of those you trust most. You have learned to fear pain and have learned to make it your friend. You have been alone, rejected, forgotten, confused, humiliated. Maybe you have also climbed to an overlook in the middle of fall and breathed in sweet mountain air. Maybe you’ve stood on the shores of an ocean that makes you feel small in a very good way. Maybe you’ve watched your friends and family roll with laughter, witnessed lil babies learn to walk, seen a sunrise or ten.

Whatever your story is, we are one in the same. I guess that’s what I hope to communicate through the songs that I write. No matter the source of your pain, joy, grief, rest, turmoil, peace… you and I are encountering the same God. The stories may differ by the page, but the Author is the same kind God who designed our minds and hands with the capacity to carve an instrument from wood and give it strings.

While I might never know the details of your story, I know the Hero that longs to rescue you. Our stories tell of the same King, the same flocks of poor and needy, the same Villain and the same glorious end.

I hope we are able to share stories someday. Until then, let these songs remind you that your story is understood and precious.

From a wandering musician to the one reading these words: thank you for listening to this music.