Well now, this is interesting
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.
organiquegal Says:
We have SO much in common it’s frightening. Music was a HUGE part of my childhood and teens. My dad is an amazingly talented musician, self taught, and can play anything with strings. He writes music and performs and continues to amaze me by his skill and natural talent. I grew up in a home of music. Instead of dinner parties, our family had music nights. Friends would come over and jam late into the night… Every morning I woke up to my dad playing the guitar softly…
I sang in a church choir from the time I was 6 or 7, into my 20’s, and could sign both alto and soprano with ease. I was a praise singer at our church for many years. I took Royal Conservatory piano lessons for most of my childhood, and by the time I was in high school I was playing for our youth choir, and at an 8th grade level. It was my MOM’S dream for me to be a piano teacher, and to me, this was just one small example of how she controlled every aspect of my life. When I was 17 I stood up to her for the first time in my life and told her I wouldn’t be taking piano lessons any longer. From that time on, I haven’t touched a piano. It has always represented the angst we had between us, and I have always hated classical music. I wanted to play blues or jazz, but my mom insisted it had to be classical because I wouldn’t make any money as a blues or jazz musician… :/
In the last few years I’ve debated buying a keyboard and taking music lessons again, but this time focusing on music I love… I’ve also thought of joining a choir again or taking voice lessons. Your post has inspired me to be open to opportunities that may arise…
Hugs,
A
Posted on August 4th, 2008 at 12:40 pm
Terri Says:
Good for you! Keep listening to that nagging little voice and follow it. I too have found myself apologizing to Him for having reached 40 something years old before realizing how much I need Him.
Posted on August 4th, 2008 at 2:56 pm
NYC MOM Says:
……..never too late………… NEVER.
And your road lead you to having your little boy…..and maybe you needed the strength of becoming a MOM to appreciate your gifts.
Keep singing…………. You and Mr. A was all wrong; but the two of you made something real special in that adorable little boy.
Good Luck..
Posted on August 4th, 2008 at 6:38 pm
Debra Baker Says:
Follow your dreams, dear.
As NYC MOM said, it’s never too late.
I am in my ’40’s and I’m seriously considering med school. In fact, I’m going to an open house at PCOM tomorrow. Imagine that.
If I’m audacious enough to pursue medicine in my 40’s, *you* can follow your dreams making music regardless of age.
Follow your heart.
Posted on August 5th, 2008 at 7:50 am
Jenny in VA Says:
Sing… Sing a song… Sing out loud… Sing out strong!
You do what YOU want to now. And think of the example you’ll be setting for lil Pill. You realize you’re his hero, right?
Hugs,
Jenny
Posted on August 5th, 2008 at 10:15 am
racheepoo Says:
Organique are you my twin?
I hope you do get a keyboard. Music is too special to stay buried.
Terri, hope you are doing well! I think you’re doing a pretty bang-up job of catching up for lost time following God these days
NYCMom,I agree that my lil pill is the most precious gift ever, ever, ever.
DB, I can so see you in med school! That’s wonderful.
Jen, you know lil pill can’t stand to hear me sing because I sing so much, right?
Thanks y’all.
Posted on August 5th, 2008 at 1:57 pm
FXSmom Says:
After Damion and I split (Damion was a fitting name for him) I allowed myself to truly truly find myself. I dabbled in the evil (partying till 4 am when my kids were gone on visitations) and I dabbled in the good (joined the church choir). It was the best time of my life. I found out who I really was. I think every divorced woman needs to be able to do that. It’s amazing what a bad marriage can suck out of you. Good for you for beginning to find out the Rachel that God created
Posted on August 5th, 2008 at 3:08 pm
racheepoo Says:
Thanks FXS. I think there’s a reason a lot of divorced women take a looong time to remarry! lol
Posted on August 5th, 2008 at 4:37 pm