More Than Singing

"Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music."

~Angela Monet

 

 

There are many who sing.  Some sing only when they believe no one is listening.  Some sing regularly in the shower, the yard, or the car, but never into a microphone.  Some sing for thousands in stadiums.  And some sing in church.

 

As it is with any trained vocal performance, I must learn the rhythm, the dynamics, the style, the lyrics, and of course the melody and/or harmony of the song.  It can be quite challenging to recall and perform all of those things in synergy, yet still retain an on-stage presence, or an outward expression of the emotion evoked by the song. 

 

But when you are singing to God, for God, and to inspire the worship of God, there is this whole other element that comes into play, and you had better be prepared to be a conduit for powerful spiritual energy.  Singing while facing a congregation is such an intimate act.  You are permitting the congregation to witness your personal act of worship, and they have no choice but to allow you to witness theirs.  The beautiful thing is the way we feed off one another, like a delicate dance where control and balance are shared and rotated between the partners. 

On their faces, I see smiles, tears, furrowed brows, and all sorts of symbols of the personal journey each of them is traveling.  I know when the music speaks to them.  Some clap, some stand up, some weep.  It energizes me and encourages me to keep giving it my all.  To those with no expression at all...I sing to them in the hopes that will truly hear the message of the song. 

 

 

 

Paying Our Respects

I told them they didn't have to get out of the car when we pulled up to the cemetery.  After all, neither he nor the kids ever met them.  I was the one needing to draw close, to read their names in stone, to pay my respects in my own way.  The kids opted to stay, but he walked with me.  When we reached their graves, we stood there in silence, as if he was absorbing the memories, love, and nostalgia that were emanating from within me.  

 

There was a service plaque at the end of a long metal pole near my grandfather's footstone.  It was rusted and mangled and practically horizontal with the ground.  When he asked why it was like that, I said probably the groundskeeper had hit it with the mower.  He scoffed and made a comment about people being disrespectful. 

 

I watched him remove it from the ground and spend several minutes working to straighten out the metal pole as best he could.  Then I watched him stake it by the footstone, perfectly centered.  I was overcome with emotion for this gesture of respect and honor - for a man he'd never met or loved.  But he knew what PaPa meant to me.  And he knew that he was a hero to me, and that if he hadn't existed, I would never have come into existence.  It was a beautiful moment of tenderness I will never forget. 

 

 

“The bond that links your true family is not one of blood,

but of respect and joy in each other's life.”

~Richard David Bach

No Shortcut to Healing

I'm not sure how I can possibly explain the road from there to here.  In the midst of devastation and betrayal, it is impossible to cheer yourself with thoughts that "this was meant to be" and "there is a reason for everything".  No, there's no shortcut to healing. 

I had to feel it all to the depths - shock, betrayal, humiliation, vulnerability.  The sheer astonishment of someone's ability to do what you did......it knocked the air out of me.  But I had to be knocked that hard so that I would be down for awhile and not try to foolishly pop right back up, wanting to get right back in the ring.  I'd have been apt to over-estimate my strength and never see the knockout coming. 

No, instead I created a safe little haven for myself and I nested there for quite a very long time.  I was able to restore my strength and courage, and able to start at the beginning again and rebuild my foundation.  Slowly.  And it's stronger than ever because God is at the center of it, and not just in a superficial Sunday sort of way.

Like seeing a tornado touch down, I can so easily and clearly see God's hand reaching down to intervene into my life.  He gave me the opportunity to follow my heart and the courage to reclaim a lost love that would have haunted me the rest of my life had I not searched it out.  And despite the mountains of doubt I have had, I am seeing with my own eyes that people truly can learn from their mistakes and become better versions of themselves. 

No, there is no shortcut to healing.  But the long and difficult road is worthwhile, because when a wound heals, the skin is stronger than it was before.  Of course I still remember the devastation from two years ago.  But I can sincerely say that I am grateful for it.  I would never have arrived in this moment, had I not traveled that path.  And I'm right where I want to be.

"Iba volando sobre el mar
con las alas rotas

Ay amor apareciste en mi vida
y me curaste las heridas"

"I had no direction, I was dying

I was flying over the sea with broken wings

Oh my love, you came into my life

And healed my wounds"

 

Intrinsic Motivators

I caught a lyric of a song today that basically said the roar of the crowd was what kept this singer going.  I thought about how this same singer recently filed for divorce after his infidelity to his wife made headline news a few months earlier.  And I wondered to myself what is it that drives people?  And when do they cross the line from doing something because they just love to do it.....to doing something because the roar of the crowd (or the industry awards....or the salary....or the fame..) has become a high to which they are addicted?

I remember learning about intrinsic and extrinsic motivators when I was working on my psychology degree.  Basically, intrinsic motivators are things that you feel within yourself when doing something you enjoy.  For instance, I enjoy writing.  It feels good to me, it's cathartic, and it helps me to process my thoughts and feelings.  Extrinsic motivators come from outside  of yourself - for instance, money, recognition, fame, an award, or the competitive desire to "out perform" others.  Perhaps someone starts off making music because they love it, but eventually they do it for the money or because they are hell bent on earning that Grammy, etc.  Just because you have extrinsic rewards in place does not mean that you aren't intrinsically motivated.  For instance, a teacher may love to teach, but he also earns money for teaching. 

The interesting thing is that research has shown that once people become extrinsically motivated to do something they love, many of them tend to lose interest or satisfaction in the activity for which they once had only intrinsic motivation.  When does one cross the line and become attached only to the notion of winning or of making a certain amount of money (and what constitutes "enough" money continually climbs as success increases) instead of loving what they do for the sole reason that it brings them joy?

I certainly know some folks who seem to have stayed true to their craft, even with extrinsic motivation galore.  I know pastors whose churches have expanded, who are paid to share God's word, but who have stayed focused and humbled rather than becoming power-hungry or taking credit for the talents that God gave them.  I know people who have pursued occupations that mirror their interests and talents, and who have enjoyed great success in terms of publishing or awards or income, but who have remained steadfast with their commitment to serving others through their careers.  But these folks are usually the exception.  Others get swept up in things like fame, critics, competition, popular opinion, and money, and they slowly transform to a place where they no longer truly enjoy what they once loved to do, but instead, they sacrifice relationships, ethics, time, and other resources in the name of "greater success" - whatever that means to them.

"Success is not the key to happiness.  Happiness is the key to success. 
If you love what you are doing, you will be successful."

~Herman Cain

Conditional Love

You claim that you love me - well really you don't even claim to anymore, it's just a foregone conclusion I'm meant to assume.  But you have found it so easy to turn your back on me.  I'm supposed to believe that you're concerned for me and that your concern is rooted in love for me.  Well let me tell you, none of this feels like concern or love.  It feels like conditional love.  When I do what you want me to do, you supposedly love me.  When I do something you disagree with, you withdraw your love and turn your back on me.  The irony is that you push me even farther away by doing that. 

 

To be honest, I really don't buy that you love me.  I haven't bought it for a long time.  I'm not stupid.  You certainly haven't shown it.  There were times I needed you, and you know how I hate to ask.  But I did.  You were too busy.  Busy with your life, busy judging me....  You don't even know me anymore.  So it's almost laughable now to see you turn your back on me, because it's really only a notch up from what you were doing before. 

 

I will never try to convince someone to love me or support me.  And why should I?  It's insanity.  It's insulting.  And the jig is up. 

I'm Here Now

Most of us can recall some childhood memory when we were experiencing panic, disappointment, sadness, or a feeling of being lost.  We knew that the only thing that would make it all better was the presence of a loved one to provide reassurance and security.

 

When I was in kindergarten, I rode the bus home from school, and was one of the first stops on the route (we lived just down the street from the school).  One day we had a substitute bus driver, and he drove right past my house.  I was so shy and withdrawn (believe it or not...lol), I couldn't even muster up the courage to speak up and let him know of his error.  Instead, I sat and cried quietly in my seat, while the driver covered a lot of miles on out into more rural areas that I did not visually recognize. 

 

Meanwhile, my mother was frantic, calling the school to see if I was still there, driving up and down the road to see if somehow I was walking home from school, and so forth.  Eventually, the bus driver made his last drop off and began to head back to the bus lot.  It was then that he noticed me and asked where I should have been dropped off, and I guess I managed to tell him my address or street name.  Arriving back home and rushing into my mother's arms was the only thing that would have comforted me and eased my anxiety on that day.  I'm sure she probably soothed me, whispering something like, "It's okay.  I'm here now."

 

Even as adults, we need these moments.  It's hard to admit it, but each one of us needs to be wrapped up in the arms of safety, love, and security.  I've recently experienced that for the first time in a very long time - someone who wants to take care of me in ways I never thought I would be cared for, because I was always so busy doing it all for myself and my children.  It's crazy actually, having him there to lend a hand, to provide support, and for me to lean on.  I'm not used to it.  I've unfortunately grown accustomed to takers, not givers.  It feels luxurious.  When he says he'll handle a certain thing, I'll say "I've got this.  I've always taken care of this."  Then he says to me "I'm here now" and I feel like the child coming off the school bus, falling into arms of support and comfort and love. 

 

Indeed you are here now.  And I am slowly learning to let you hold me and help me.

 

"You're here, that's all I need to know
And you will keep me safe
And you will keep me close..."

~"A Little Fall of Rain" from Les Miserables

 

 

Coat of Many...Betrayals

I'm writing a small group study guide for my church.  I haven't even heard the sermon yet that it's based on, but I know the topic (betrayal & forgiveness) and read several chapters in Genesis today that will apparently be discussed.  It's a story I know well - that of Joseph and the betrayal he endured. I counted three betrayals actually.  First, his own brothers betrayed him.  Out of their jealousy for his favoritism with his father, they sold him off as a slave, telling their father he had died.  Second, his master's wife tried unsuccessfully seduce him.  His rejection of her made her so angry that she lied to her husband and said he came on to her.  Third, after being thrown in prison and helping a cellmate by interpreting his dream correctly and giving him hope, he begged that the cellmate not forget him, and to put in a good word for him.  The cellmate did not do as Joseph asked.

When Joseph finally confronts his brothers - after he has climbed a ladder of success and become powerful and well-respected - he is overcome with sadness at what they did to him.  Still, he chooses to bless them more than you and I might say they deserve.

One verse stuck out to me in a big way.  Joseph comforts his brothers (comforts them!) over what they did to him.  He tells them, "...it was not you who sent me here, but God..." (Genesis 45:8).  Through all of the bitterness and resentment, Joseph found his way not only to forgiveness and compassion, but to see the divine purpose in his life story.  He recognized that, without the betrayals he suffered, he would not have come to perform God's purpose for him, which allowed him to put measures into place to feed a country during a seven year famine. 

I recently shared with my writing group that the person who committed one of the greatest, most hurtful acts of betrayal toward me, was the one who introduced me to the church I now attend.  I learned a lot from the sins that person committed against me.  But every time I marvel at how much I love my church, the pastor, the choir I'm in, the children's programming, etc......I think about the fact that I was brought here by way of a difficult road.  I don't believe it was an accident.  I needed to be here.  And now I have this wonderful community of people, as well as an amazing pastor and worship leader, to help me heal from the wounds of betrayal, and to grow in my relationship with God.

"Somewhere down the road

There'll be answers to the questions.

Somewhere down the road

Though we cannot see it now...

Somewhere down the road

You will find mighty arms reaching for you

And they will have the answers

Somewhere down the road."

~Faith Hill, "Somewhere Down the Road" (Prince of Egypt Nashville soundtrack)