Disclaimer: this blog might seem like less of an inspiration and more of just a vulnerable, honest moment that I’m feeling leading up to training camp. I just didn’t realize how much loss there was in gaining this experience.
This week was a bit of a beast. In the last 48 hours or so, I had to say quite a few goodbyes, all of which I assumed I was ready for. I thought wrong. Turns out that my heart had been holding on secretly behind the wall of stress my mind had built up. Once the reason for that stress was gone, it was revealed I hadn’t actually been ready to move on at all.
A senior vocal recital is a bit of a feat. Memorizing 13 songs in multiple languages, styles, and emotions was tough enough, let alone performing them in front of all of the people who’s opinion of you means the world. However, after the last note and bow I realized just how bittersweet that moment was for me. This was probably the last time I would ever sing like that. Unless by some off chance I become an opera sensation, I don’t plan on ever rigorously studying French Aria’s again. I also don’t plan on participating in broadway musicals. Though a dream would be to one day make it in the music business, preferably as a worship leader, fame is something I have always tried to avoid for fear of getting too caught up. So, giving a concert full of all sorts of music is no where in my future. No one mentions that senior year is actually a little sad behind all the “let’s just get this over with” stress. I have been wishing for weeks either not to do it or for it to just be over with. Now that it is, I want it all back.
Something I realized coming into this journey was that I had allowed my voice to define me for a while. Granted, there are worse things to put your identity to than a gift of God that brings so much joy (mostly to me, sometimes to others). Music is hard to remove yourself from. It attaches to moments in life where you hear a song and are brought back to that memory. It affects your emotions, possibly manipulating you to feel something you weren’t originally feeling. It infiltrates your mind, spinning around your head when you weren’t even thinking of that song. But mostly, it invades your soul. Everything is surrounded by music. So when you spend half of your life studying it, producing it, writing it, communicating–in your best way–through it, and even building a bit of a fan club (hey mom) around your involvement in it, you begin to define yourself by your gift.
Unfortunately, I have found those corny phrases like “you don’t miss it until it’s gone” or “hindsight is 20/20” pretty relevant lately. Not only was my senior year coming to a close, and a certain part of my voice (classically trained) coming to an end, but it seemed as though the other piece of my voice was taking a break as well. Looking ahead, October consists of one week away for fall break, and 2 more weeks at training camp. November is one weekend of choir stuff and one home because of family medical things. I wouldn’t be able to lead worship until November 18th at the earliest. I would miss what felt like hundreds (probably about 7) rehearsals for my favorite time of the year, the Christmas “show” that our church puts on. I wouldn’t be learning any new intricate pieces or harmonies, let alone have time to sit down and make up my own. There was just a lot of “time to think and take space” ahead for my relationship with music. Maybe we had just hit a rut?
I know I sound like a drama queen…it’s kind of my point. I’m sure I am going to sing on the race. But it will be different. There is no more University of the Cumberlands Recital Hall, no more Creek Church worship band, no more car-belting, radio-turned-up-all-the-way, dance-until-it’s-probably-not-safe driving, and definitely no more full length shower concerts because you have 4 minutes of water in a bucket so good luck. In all of these realizations of letting go, I realized most that it was all going to be so good. As sad as it makes me to say goodbye to the people who helped form me, and the music that transformed me, the God who made me was calling me higher. He was asking me to let go of the identity that had defined me for so long. I didn’t know who I was other than “that singer girl”. I knew pieces of myself were way more than that, but daily music had defined my life for so long. Becoming a musician, a worship leader, it was supposed to be the plan.
I think I am beginning to learn that as soon as we believe we have an idea of the plan, God likes to remind us how little we know. That’s okay though because I need that information in order to remember that 1) He is in control 2) He is good at being in control 3) His ways are better 4) It’s all just a season. So, no, I’m not saying goodbye to singing or anything dramatic like that. I am dealing with a bit of fear surrounding the idea that I won’t be using my voice in the same way. I am also grieving a bit about the idea that I don’t feel like I am really going to be contributing much now. Mostly, I am learning to loosen my grip and stop holding on to things that aren’t permanent or promised. God is teaching me a whole new way of letting go. There wasn’t much of a point to this blog other than reminding myself that I can trust God and that I should be clinging to the actual promises. My purpose isn’t driven by my contribution. It is driven by my maker. Our purpose is clearly laid out: Love others, love God, share about Jesus. So I have to let go of believing that I can make myself any better by doing. I have to learn to be.
