Music, Lies, and Addiction

There is something about music. It draws us in; it carries us back—sometimes gently, sometimes painfully—into memories of the past. Good times. Rough times.
Bad memories often end in tears, and sometimes even good ones do too. Memories of happier days are often wrapped in euphoric recall—remembering the sweetness while quietly ignoring the cost.

When I listen to music, it affects me emotionally. It always has. Certain albums hold both joy and sorrow together. As I listen to Blood on the Tracks, I hear echoes of simpler days of youth alongside memories of heartbreak. Joy and pain sit side by side—heartache and elation, loss and longing.

We are not shallow human beings…

This, too, is how the Lord has made us. We are not shallow beings. We are formed with deep emotional capacity, capable of joy that lifts us heavenward and sorrow that brings us to our knees.

Some music has the power to dredge up the sharp pain of separation—of broken relationships that once felt utterly devastating. When drugs were involved, the pain was often multiplied. It certainly was for me. Thinking about broken relationships can feel heartrending, tragic, lonely, and intensely personal.

Apparently, some people do not have that kind of connection with music. I have never understood that. For me, it is always personal. There is something about certain songs that draws me back—back to that moment of loss, or occasionally to a fleeting moment of joy or revelation.

There are songs I simply do not listen to anymore. I’m Still in Love with You is one of them. I wept many times listening to it in the early 1990s, after my wife walked out. Music has a way of reopening wounds we thought had scarred over.

Music: Danger and Power

Music expresses emotions we often cannot articulate ourselves. Lyrics give voice to what we have felt and lived through but never found words for. That is part of its power—and part of its danger.

Someone once commented to Bob Dylan on how wonderful Blood on the Tracks was. Dylan replied, How can it be wonderful when it is so full of pain? His son, Jakob Dylan, later suggested it was autobiographical, rooted in his parents’ divorce, though Dylan denied it. Regardless, the listener heard their own story in the lyrics. The words struck a chord. They named emotions that had been there all along, unspoken.

That is how music works. It speaks into moments of our lives that are etched deeply into our minds and hearts.

Perhaps the wisest response to emotions stirred by music is not to suppress them, nor to indulge them unchecked, but to bring them honestly to our Saviour. He knows our feelings—more deeply than we realise, and better than we know ourselves. Jesus is the only one who can truly say, I know exactly how you feel. He understands. He draws near. He holds us close in a way no one else can.

Scripture reminds us of this gentle nearness:

“The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit.”
— Psalm 34:18 (ESV)

He does not turn away from wounded hearts. He moves toward them.

“He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.”
— Psalm 147:3 (ESV)

“Come to me, all who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”
— Matthew 11:28–30 (ESV)

Yet there is a danger we must acknowledge. The emotions stirred by music can also trigger us. When they do, the familiar lies are often close behind.

One more time won’t matter.
No one will ever know.
It’s my life—I can do what I want, when I want.

The Vertical “I”

Notice the subject of every lie: the singular, vertical pronoun—I. Self at the centre. The modern idol. Me, my wants, my desires. And in truth, me can be my most dangerous enemy, because self always seeks to take God’s place.

This is where vigilance matters. Emotions are not sinful, but they are not neutral either. Untethered from truth, they can quietly lead us back toward old paths of bondage.

Ponder

Are there particular songs or styles of music that consistently pull you back into old patterns of thinking, longing, or temptation? What lies tend to follow in their wake?

Action

This week, pay attention to what music stirs in you. When strong emotions surface, pause and name them before God. Consider setting aside music that repeatedly draws you toward harmful memories or behaviours, even if only for a season.

Prayer

Lord Jesus, you know my heart more fully than I do. Have mercy on me. Help me to capture my thoughts and bring them to you. Guard my mind when emotions run deep, and teach me to rest in your truth rather than the lies that whisper so easily.

Challenge

Choose one familiar trigger—music, memory, or mood—and intentionally replace it with Scripture or prayer when it arises. Let Christ, not emotion, have the final word.

“Bring all your cares to Him, because He cares for you.” (1 Peter 5:7)

May even our thoughts—every memory stirred, every emotion awakened—be gently brought under the care of the One who heals the brokenhearted and leads us into true freedom.