Everyone has their story of why they decided to join the World Race. All of them are called by the Lord. Our friends and aquaintances think we are running the Amazing Race or doing extensive physical activity while traveling. I am absolutely running, but not toward a goal or prize. I am running away from something, tearing away as fast as I possibly can. The reality is I came on the Race to sprint away from my calling. Yet, in every country this calling has found me, even beckoned me. Every random moment of this reunion has proven that I have been running away from music.
I came on the Race to run away from music, believing I was supposed to want other things. I thought it was wrong to want to perform. I should want to settle down and have a family, to be a typical mom and wife and never pursue my dreams. Right? Never once did it occur to me that my real desires were of Him and He carefully knitted me together to want those things in the first place. I wanted to leave them behind to become more who I thought I should be, not recognizing the power and weight it had on my soul and its connection to the Lord.
I ran away from the pain I thought it caused me. Every day, I felt I wasn’t good enough and I held the weight of that attitude through college. The comparison game got the best of me and in the end I lost the game… I lost everything. I lost my soul and I lost myself. Every rejection or correction in class or the practice room added to this deep rooted attitude that I would never ever be enough. There was no space in there for the Lord to work, for Him to be there and give me His opinion because I had made up my mind. Never would I be enough because I didn’t get this solo or that. Never would I be good enough because I didn’t have time to practice 3 hours a day, nor did I feel determination that once drove me in my youth. Never would I be good enough because I did not do this tune right or sing the right note to the changes. Nothing would ever be enough. I knew I wanted a renewal of my mind, a fresh way to see music and practicing, but it felt impossible.
You can see the depth of attack and pain this attitude caused. In the last week, I have realized that the reflection of my attitude toward music reflected my attitude toward my personality and who I am. Finally, I have seen that music represents my soul as a reflection of my faith and intimacy with my Father. It speaks words my mouth cannot possibly speak, it is a cry of my soul. Because I have denied these parts of myself, I have denied every detail of my specific needs. I denied myself the gift of worshiping the Lord and intimacy with Him on a deeper level. As a result, I became very depressed and disengaged. I would not allow anyone inside. I blamed this on my broken relationships and the great pain of my childhood. I knew the whole time that something deeper was going on. It was something I could not see or perceive, but I knew it would come out on the Race. I hurt myself so deeply in the process. I became bitter toward who I was created to be, I began to rebel and act out. I demanded myself to be perfect, an imperfect demand that God never wanted for me.
I have cried and cried in the last week because I realized something – I am enough. I am more than enough for my Papa in heaven. I am unique for a reason. I cried of the details the Lord gave me when He created me. He has revealed my calling and allowed me to see myself from His point of view. How was I so blind that I did not see my own beauty? How did I forget my love for the music He gave me to worship Him? How did my passion get lost in the maize of voices inside my head? I lost sight of my purpose and calling in life. Praise God that I was blind, but now I see.
I cannot run anymore. I have a gift and a calling but it looks different now. The Lord must be in my practicing and dedication. His strength must be mine because I cannot do this on my own. When I believed everything was my own strength, I stopped trying. I gave up before I started and did not see an end goal. That is not the Mary Beth I know deep down in my heart.
Why Am I Done With Performing?
For far too long, I have believed in performance-based work. I need to do this or that, or work hard at this or that, in order to be accepted by my Father and by the world. If I want to earn acceptance and love from others, I have to be absolutely perfect. The most obvious avenue this manifested itself has been in music. I realized something last week – The stillness with the Lord I feel in performing is unlike anything I have ever experienced. There is a sacredness that is supposed to be there, a sense of rest and peace. For 5 years, I have been too busy telling myself “Don’t mess up this part,” “Don’t sing the wrong note,” or my personal favorite, “Better use your technique right.”
I distracted myself from the stillness that comes from sharing music. I hate the word “performance.” It feels like I am putting on a show and a persona that is not me. I feel like I’m hiding something. Though my lips sing words, I hide the real conversation on the tip of my tongue. I want to share with others. I want to share with them a part of my soul that just might connect them to a being beyond themselves. I want them to understand their own souls and how that relates to the Lord. This is such a delicate process that seems daunting. I have recognized other musicians that don’t know how to share the depths of their souls, some are stuck in the same places I have been. The need to gain worth and significance in somebody else’s eye is a full-time job. It leaves out the worth you already have and it leaves out the Lord. It creates a panic inside, a state of depression that feels so performance-based you feel you will never live up to that expectation.
Not only do I want to talk about this with an audience, I want to talk about this with other musicians. I want to minister to the delicate and intricate soul of the artist, for it sees and hears things differently than most of the public, and is such a beautiful basis to hear the Lord differently. They speak in tongues in their own right and their own way, they prophesy what is to come by notes and sounds. They are so powerful that they need no words. The church limits us. It gives us a piece of music, saying to play this many songs in this many minutes, with these kind of chord changes, and don’t get too fancy because others will not keep up.
Let me ask you something: When is the last time you heard somebody excited about a Friday night concert that could be inspiring?
Let me ask you something else: When is the last time you heard somebody get that excited over music in a regular Sunday church service? I’m not saying this doesn’t happen – people absolutely get excited for their Sunday worship. I’m saying it’s not the same kind of sparkle in their eye, the same kind of excitement. I guarantee for the professional musician that it is just an easy gig they feel obligated toward. The Friday night musician gets a twinkle in their eye for feeling freedom with their friends. The Sunday morning musician rolls out of bed and hopes they get something out of the sermon, because their form of worship is not FULLY satisfied. What would it look like for the musician to worship God in their jam sessions? What would it look like for the church to not put limitations on our form of worship? How do we accomplish this? A form of worship this powerful cannot have limitations, but it must leave room for the Lord. It must leave room for the soul to be ministered to and understood. Words that are not spoken by the tongue must be given margin to speak.
These questions came out of my epiphonies and then led me to this conclusion:
I am done performing. I am beginning a form of understanding, sharing, and giving on stage. I am beginning to tap into a space of stillness that I have never felt before, a space that has no room for fear. I am inviting you to do the same. Ask yourself this: Do I value the music more than my own life? If music has a distinct weight on your value, you have automatically made it more valuable than your life in itself. This cannot be so. It must be a tool and a gifting that improves your life, not overpowers it. I ask myself this question sometimes: If I die, will my music be remembered or my life? Such a question cannot revoke the irreplaceable value of your physical being that embodies your soul. You are much more valuable than your music. After all, you are the artist of your art form. It will not be the same art as anyone else, and it certainly does not embody the entirety of your mind and personality. It reveals it, but does not hold its weight. You have a unique ministry to understand the soul of another and to connect intimately with it. This requires vulnerability and a new way of thinking. It requires you to know your value and your worth enough to uplift somebody else’s life. Lay down your weapons, this is a safe space. You have freedom here in your creativity and form. Your life IS more valuable than the music, so take all the risks you can if it means you come closer with the Father in your art form. Expand your horizons.
My musical life will be changed and my words will be different. I will continue to ask these hard questions on behalf of the musician, I will continue to become more vulnerable and open myself to my calling. I pray I discover my soul and connect with yours in the process. Artists, I want to hear your opinions and your thoughts. I want to hear your own struggles with this. Continue praying for me as I heal from my own damage and discover how to be equipped for such a calling to minister to an artist’s soul. I was blind, but now I see.
P.S. – We have made it to South Africa and leave for Lesotho today. I will take more risks this month and I cannot wait to see what they bring.
With a newness of heart,
Mary Beth
