For months, I've felt something tugging on me. Every time I hear music that's particularly inspirational/fun to sing...tug, tug, tug You're not using your gift. Every time I go to work and force myself to do something that doesn't come naturally...tug, tug, tug Wouldn't it be nice to actually love what you do?
In a previous life I was studying music with the intention to professionally play classical music and/or perform opera. I practiced 6 hours every weekday and 12 hours each Saturday and Sunday. At age 17, away from home for the first time, as naieve and shy as they come...I was in over my head. I was easy pickin's for a predator, and that's exactly what happened. After the fireworks stopped and I was alone again---alone with guilt and shame and shunned by everyone who had previously been my friend-- I pretty much had a spiritual breakdown. Prior to that event I had been a very good girl. Very mainstream, non-questioning, status-quo (although I never felt like I fit in, I did a good job of making it work). But right then and there, at about age 19, I decided I wouldn't be doing anything just because I "should". And so I gave up music, walked away without a backward glance. You have to understand that I've been singing in front of crowds since I was two years old, and performing is in my blood. To walk away, not to touch a piano or sing in public, was sort of like losing an appendage. But that's just what I did.
When I married Mr. A, I was on guard because he told me very early in our relationship that white people can't sing. He certainly didn't appreciate opera, and we never had a piano or keyboard. Since I wasn't invested in music then, it wasn't a big deal to me, but just a niggling annoyance that I didn't have a husband that liked my voice. I'd always had this non-negotiable in mind when thinking of my husband: I wanted a husband I could sing to and that would sing to me. I'd pictured us jamming on stage, leading worship, coming home in the car singing acapella. Mr. A was not a believer so it was highly unlikely that he'd ever get involved in ministry, but as time went on and our marriage fell apart without God, I started returning to the teachings of my childhood, slowly realizing how much I needed Him. It was 8 years after the college experience that I told God I was sorry, that I'd never figured out who He was for myself; that I'd taken on everything my Dad and brother had told me as gospel and rejected the whole lot of it when people masquerading as His servants failed me. But He never did.
Looking back, I can see that moving to Michigan was beneficial for one --and only one-- reason. I was forced to start playing and singing again. And boy I was rusty, and embarrassed, and furious at myself. But the music was there--and it had always been there, waiting like a jilted lover. Hoping to be rediscovered and cared for. And tentatively I started playing, and writing music again as well.
So a few months ago when these tugs started, I realized that I don't have an unbelieving husband to hide behind, to excuse me from service to God. It's just me and God, working it all out between us; I'm rediscovering Him on a daily basis, truly believing in his deep, deep love for me. His limitless patience for my many faults and fears. He's carried me through so many valleys of my own making. And even with these gifts that I've squandered during years of misuse and neglect, He's shown me His understanding heart.
So when I heard another sermon asking why I wasn't using my gifts, and wondering how I thought my life would be fulfilling when I wasn't true to the deepest calling of my heart, I knew it was God tugging on me again. And this time I'm listening. I'm ready. Whatever you have God. I'm open.
