ever preached against something and then realized you are falling prey to it yourself?
When we lost our choir director under rotten circumstances I preached hope to my fellow choir members.
“God can get us through this.” I said. “We can concentrate on HIM and be more aware than ever of our need for HIM to sing through us this holiday season.” I said. “Amen” they said.
I even blogged about it.
apparently I didn’t really listen to my own sermon very well.
What have I done this holiday season so far?
Let Satan trip me up with every single little road block he could find.
Okay, not every single one. But every possible reason to skip choir practice has been my special foe this season. Some were legit: sinus infections are something that should never be brought into a choir room. But simple weariness? or being on my period? or stomach upset? or a fussy baby (when my mom was offering to baby sit and I really did need to get out of the house anyway!) ? Heck I don’t even like the piece at all! None of these are contagious and I should have recognized them for what they were: Satan giving me plausible reasons to grasp at to stay home so I didn’t have to come face to face with a simple truth:
I don’t have the joy or depth to sing praises this particular Christmas season. This has been a worse Christmas season (in a different way) than last year when I thought my barrenness was going to keep us from ever being parents. I knew if I went to choir I would have to confront that basic fact and make a decision: surrender the hurt to God and let HIM take away the lump in my throat or push through it in pride and be anything but a Godly witness.
I knew I didn’t have it in me to sing on my own. But instead of being obedient to my commitment to my church, my fellow choir members and to God, I skipped. Skipped most every rehearsal since October. I chose to be a hermit. I chose to hide. To put off the decision. To hug my hurts and cherish them. That is NOT of God folks. Not of God.
Here we are with only one rehearsal left before the Christmas music festival this weekend and I have only been to one practice and I have no idea what to do.
I have the CD. I *could* go over and over and over it ad-nauseum for the next few days and try to learn my part from that. Of course that means my poor hubby will be stuck in a different room of the house going over and over the bass section CD so that he doesn’t inadvertently learn the alto part.
People who show up at a performance without having been to a majority of rehearsals are a MAJOR sore spot for me. But that too is not of God. Pride? get rid of it. I know if I give this to God and put in the work, HE can do this. HE can help me learn it. Of course learning it is not the whole point. The point is that God doesn’t just want my mouth up there singing, He needs my Heart to be His so that the music has meaning.
Even the realization that I have finally come to about this. The timing of it is positively demonic. I think Satan let me figure this out with such a short time to go before the festival so that I would feel even more defeated and miserable.
So that I would say to myself “self, there is no way that I can learn this music in time. I have betrayed my fellow altos. I am dirt.”
But ya know what? in a way Satan is right: I did betray my fellow altos
We have a very big God, and I have it on good authority that he loves to hear voices raised in song.
So, here it is. I can not do this. I cannot possibly learn this music in time. But GOD already knows the score. Literally. He wrote it through his servant Michael W. Smith.
So, LORD, please help me. I’ll put in the work. You bring the Spirit. I can not do this on my own. I can learn the notes, but I can’t give this performance any soul or heart because mine is still broken. So if there is going to be ANY soul or heart to this Lord Jesus it is going to have to come straight from the Throne of Grace.
I’d say Amen Lord, but there’s no point. I’m going to have stay in constant contact to make it through this. Mind if I curl up here? I need your comfort Lord. I need it.