Mornings used to begin with chaos for Jenna—phone alarm, social media, headlines, and a rushing heart. By 8 a.m. her mind was already crowded with everyone else’s lives. After reading about music’s effect on stress and mood, she decided to try an experiment: no news before a song.
She made a “morning mercies” playlist—ten minutes of music that made her feel steady and seen. One worship song, one instrumental track, one upbeat song that made her dance while making coffee.
The first week felt strange. She reached for her phone out of habit and had to redirect her thumb to the music app. But slowly, something shifted. Instead of starting in reaction, she began starting in rhythm.
She found herself singing in the shower, whispering little prayers in between lyrics. The soundtrack became her way of telling her nervous system, “We’re safe. We’re held.” Her circumstances didn’t change—bills still came, emails still pinged—but her heart wasn’t bracing for impact every morning.
On especially hard days, she repeated the same song twice, letting the chorus remind her of truths she easily forgot. “I used to let the world tune my mood,” she wrote in her journal. “Now I let God speak first, through melody.”
The playlist became more than background noise. It became a daily act of resistance—a choice to let hope have the first word.