Thursday, November 5, 2015

Reject

I love to sing.  Singing connects me to God, allows me to pretend that I will be a backup singer for Tina Turner someday, and is a never-ending source of joy.

In fifth grade, my teacher, Mrs. Pfau, told me: "do yourself a favor and never sing aloud."

It stung.  It silenced me.  For years, I never sang where others could hear me (although NO ONE could stop my in-car solos!)  Whenever I was tempted to sing in front of others, the voices of self-doubt sang loudly in my heart.  But with the coaxing of my roommate in college, I finally started singing again.

I have been singing ever since.  In no way am I implying that I am a good singer, but I sure enjoy it.  I have sung on a TON of worship teams, sung at weddings and funerals, done plenty of solos, and relish the times that my husband and I sing together.

Last week, my husband, our daughter, and I auditioned for the worship team at the church we have been attending.  It is SO vulnerable to audition for strangers, especially because I can still hear the words of Mrs. Pfau in my ears...

"Do yourself a favor and never sing aloud."

We finally heard from the worship pastor yesterday.  My husband and daughter were chosen, but I was not.  Ouch.  I tried to pretend that it was not a blow to my pride.  I am truly happy for them, but truly wounded for me.  I have actually shed tears over it.  HOW EMBARRASSING!

"Do yourself a favor and never sing aloud."

The question is: am I going to let the rejection silence me?  Will I be able to sing aloud again and not think of my disappointment and shame?

Time will tell...

Amberly

Monday, November 2, 2015

It. Is. Finished.

Well, I did it.  I completed my first (and only) triathlon.

I h trained.  I followed all the advice of friends, colleagues, and bloggers.  I had all the right equipment. I choked.

The swim was only 1/2 mile long and on beautiful Lake Mead.  My best friend, Debbie, swore to stay with me through the triathlon (this was her 5th) and I am glad she did.

All the beginners were in the last heat.  It was hard enough being in a wetsuit in public, but the swimming cap made me look like a goddess indeed.  I ventured into the water and had not gone 100 feet  - when I panicked.  All the symptoms of a panic attack - shortness of breath, heart palpitations, nausea, impaired judgment, country music in my head - showed up like old friends.  I kept looking at the shore; only the sound of my best friend's voice stopped it from being the shortest attempt at a tri in U.S. (heck, international) history.

After a few failed attempts at any of the strokes I had practiced, I started backstroking.  Debbie and I came up with a system wherein she would pat my arm or leg depending on in which direction I needed to swim.  She encouraged.  She cheered.  She doggy-paddled for 1/2 while I tried to avoid throwing up.

I had to change my clothes into gear for biking once the swimming portion was over.  After a failed attempt at not flashing those changing around me and dropping my towel (oops.  Sorry, sir.  Some things cannot be unseen.), I got on the bike.  It was a grueling steady climb of 14 miles.  I think about 12 of that had a 6% incline, which does not seem like much, but it got hard.

My body started hurting in parts that shall remain unnamed.  Oh. My. Goodness.

And Debbie?  She just kept encouraging.  She got quiet when I would throw a fit.  She would gently encourage me with tips and point out landmarks along the way.  She loved me even when I said disparaging things.  We talked candidly about life.  She never left my side.

After a three mile jog (mostly walking), we crossed the finish line together and I have never been so thankful to be her friend.

She literally embodied the role of the Holy Spirit in the life of a believer.  She directed, guided, nudged, encouraged, pushed, loved, but mostly, she just never left my side.  She was on my team the whole time.

I need to remember that the next time I have a hard time "feeling" God.  He is on Team Amberly and will never leave my side.  Even when I can't stop looking at the shore in times of storm.  Even when I say disparaging things about myself.  Even when I fail.  He loves me and He loves you.

I am thankful for His presence...

Amberly