Friday, October 16, 2015

The Stage-Fright of Worship



          After a year of prompting from friends and my pastor, I finally made the jump to help be on the Worship Team.  I held out for so long, because I was nervous.  Standing in front of people – singing – not much my forte.  But in August, I had been praying about it, and the only reason I could come up with for not being on the team, was because I feared what people may say about my voice.  I knew that the only way to combat this fear was to do exactly the opposite of what it was trying to persuade as being the “better” and safe route.  Now, two months in, and I’m wondering if I should be on the team anymore.
            When I joined the team, I told God that I didn’t want this to be about me, and I wonder how much of it has since become about me.  It seems like every Sunday, as I hold the microphone, I suddenly freeze up.  It takes every conscious effort to focus my attention on Jesus, and not look at the crowd.  Goal one:  be able to sing without sounding like I’m about to fall apart vocally.  I think I achieved that.  However, there is something that happens when I see people, and it halts me from focusing on Who I want.  Is it really the right thing for me to be on the Worship Team?  Is this my “nitch”, as my pastor would say?  Maybe I just made a mistake.  After all, if I was meant to be on the team, then I wouldn’t so freaked out about what people say, right?  It’s about worshiping and praising Jesus!  The Lord of creation, the King of majesty, and the Savior of mankind!  And yet…there is something that hinders me from a freedom to worship – both personally and as a leader on Sunday mornings. 
            I have been taking this week to think and pray about why it has been such a hurdle to focus on Jesus while leading in worship.  Unfortunately, I can’t blame nerves entirely.  I have sung in choir concerts, recitals; last year, I sang the National Anthem solo in front of 200 individuals for the school games.  So, I am used to being in front of people.  At least I think so.  To be completely honest, I hate microphones and am still learning how to use them.  However, the insecurity that is birthed in lack of experience isn’t the sole reason.
            I am fearful.  I am fearful of judgement.  Which is ironic, because if you ask anyone at church, they’ll say I have a good voice.  Maybe they can’t hear me, but that’s because I need to sing into the mic better.  My parents would say the same thing.  When I admitted to my father about my fear about singing in front of people, because people have (negatively/indifferently) commented about my voice, he had to remind me that Missoula is my past, and Browning is my present.  The judgement from others is not the problem.  Truth is, I judge myself.  I have a hard time, even though my friends tell me I have a beautiful voice, owning it for myself. 
I decided Tuesday, to open my guitar and sing.  It started out alright.  I began to sing.  But something was wrong.  I noticed that I sang to convince myself that what came out of my mouth was lovely to me.  I had to stop, because the words coming out were just words.  They were not the truth of what was going on in my mind and heart.  They were just repetitions of songs I knew from church, because they’re popular, and I wanted to match the emotional expectation I had when I’ve heard these songs.  I paused.  And when I decided to sing a melody again, I put away any songs I knew from Bethel or IHOP, and uttered what was really on my heart.

“What if people were deaf; what if people were blind?  Oh how I would sing the words I wish to say! What if people couldn’t hear; what if people couldn’t see?  Oh how I would lift my hands in praise!  I wish for an audience of One!  Would You come, Jesus, to this table I made?  I wonder if people really care.  And if they don’t, why do I?  There is a fear in my past that haunts me.  How can I lead others in worship, if I am afraid of what they’ll say?  This is a new land.  They’ve seen my flaws, they’ve seen my faults, yet they still love me.  Who am I trying to convince anymore?  You are holy, You are worthy; You are majesty, You are Jesus!  You were shamed, so I don’t hide.  You were pierced, so I could be saved!  You are Lord, but You trade a crown for three nails!”

In the midst of this struggle and honest worship, it finally hit me.  I was fearful of me, because I had learned growing up that I better make sure that I was good enough; perfect. I received compliments…sometimes.  Unfortunately, I received more reprimand and criticisms.  There was a pressure to be perfect in different areas of my life, and my insecurities left an engrained scar of self-doubt that pursues lies that have entangled me for years.  There is so much I want to praise Jesus for; there is so much I wish I could shout out.  But because there are people (and hidden standards that I inwardly believe I must meet), I then shut up.  What has nagged at my conscience on Sunday mornings is that I yearn to hit the right note, the right tempo, the right melodies and harmonies – just I have been trained in choir and voice lessons.  With all that in mind, it’s easy to forget about Jesus, because I have been persuaded that relief comes in pursuing perfection at some level. 
If I make some set of guidelines and are able to reach them, I feel better about myself, don’t I?  Nevertheless, focusing on my voice and the arrangements of a song (after all, don’t we want the worship set to be as amazing and awe-inspiring as the CDs sold in stores?) only then compromises authentic worship to the one true God.    And at that point, I then wonder if I should be on the team anymore.  If it has become about me, then shouldn’t I step down? 
I know leaders aren’t perfect.  However, is there something to say for church leaders who are getting caught up in sin and/or devilish attacks that perhaps they need to take a step back and rethink, realign themselves with God?  If I am fighting every week to remind my silly brain that it’s about my Creator and not about how it sounds, isn’t there something wrong?  Fear is funny like that.  It creates doubt.  And with doubt comes the belief that you must be unqualified to step up and minister.  In this case for me, in the line of worship.  However, I know…I know that God has equipped me with the ability of music (both vocally and instrumentally); He has equipped me to write, and to write poetically.  And there is a desire for some of my poems to turn into songs, because I know that the words that have been given to me can help others heal and know who Christ is.  This voice, just like my photography and writings, is meant to be a blessing.

  

Perhaps this nervousness is not actually about me.  Fear is something given by the enemy to trap us into a cocoon disguised as safe, but really is a chamber of suffocation.  The only way to break out is to throw it off. 2 Timothy 1:6-7 states, “Therefore, I remind you to stir up the gift of God which is in you through the laying on of hands.  For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love and of a sound mind.”  After I privately worshiped on Tuesday, I was edified, and felt like I could conquer this fear.  Today is Friday, however.  And I wonder if it’ll really be different this Sunday.  I wonder if it would be best to no longer stand on the front stage, if that is all I seem to see this present moment.
But…Perhaps, if I were to step down, it would be giving into fear.  Allowing it to win.  To step down would mean that I allowed myself to hide in shame once again, because I once again bought into the life-long lie that I have to be perfect to receive God’s grace, and the freedom of what it means to be His child.  What a cruel chain to carry.  And one that need not be borne.   I do not state this out of arrogance, but I have come to the conclusion that I want to continue to stir the gifts of God that have been given me.  I am determined that fear will no longer hinder my ability to glorify God.  As of now, I will continue to stand and sing.


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