Do You Still Sing? - Dealing with Inadequacies

Almost every time I go back to Louisiana I have someone ask me, "Do you still sing?"

I wish I had a better answer for them, but at this season of life my answer is - no.

It's not as though I have no desire to sing. I've just learned that I don't force opportunities. God gave me the abilities I have and He'll open the doors He wants in His time, but this wasn't always how I felt about singing.

There are parts of your life in which giftings are developed and times where they lie dormant. It's not that they have disappeared or that they've been taken away, it's just not their season.

For some who have only become a part of my life in recent years, you may not know that at one point I sang... a lot. Some people grew up being known as a jock, a cheerleader, a thespian, an academic, but I was known as a singer (and probably as a Bible thumper).  It's strange to think that its been around 6 years since I've sung in public... Wow, the thought of that is just crazy to me.

But with some of your greatest giftings can come your greatest fears of inadequacies, that has always been the case with me and singing. When I began singing, I constantly had to be coaxed into doing it loud enough for people to actually hear me. 

I was starting to discover this ability in middle school and was shocked when other people noticed it as well. For years, people would have to pull me out of my shell. I sang in school plays and with the youth band during our middle school service. Pretty soon I was even taking lessons.

Over the years I performed in talent shows, pageants, on numerous worship teams, at sporting events, in choirs, at outdoor community concerts, at national competitions, and in plays. I even sang in a Gospel choir, now that was fun. And while getting out on any stage was never easy for me, I really did love it. I loved all of it. I loved leading people into worship. I enjoyed the theatrics of musical theater. And I lived for any competition that allowed me to sing. 

I have had some of my highest highs and lowest lows come out of one of this gifting. The hardest part about a gifting also being an insecurity is that you take your failures much more personally.

I've had more embarrassing singing fiascos than I care to relive, but there is one that beats them all.

Honestly, I haven't spoken much about this day since it happened, although others have often reminded me of it.

It was my senior year. I was Miss Teen Louisiana and I was asked to sing the National Anthem at one of my high school's football games. The thing that was different about this game was that it was being nationally televised and held in a football stadium large enough that it also holds college bowl games- so there were A LOT of people there. I was excited and terrified. This was the first time I would perform the anthem while actually standing on the field. I know that doesn't sound like a big deal, but it's a whole different ball of wax.

Let's just say it didn't go as planned.

I made it most of the way through before singing the wrong words and then I got lost. I knew I had to hold it together, so I stopped, laughed and started completely over. I knew I had to handle it with grace. I knew I couldn't show how much it hurt me. I had to be strong. It wasn't that big a deal? Right? To make it that much better, I wasn't in front of strangers. I was in front of friends, classmates, teachers, pastors.... heck pretty much my entire church was there. I knew that no matter how much I wanted it to disappear, this humiliating event would be continually relived over and over again. It was forever dubbed - the LONGEST performance of the National Anthem ever.

As soon as I finished, I smiled and laughed as I exited the field. I ran up to the press box as fast as I could to be with my dad and to be as far away from other people as possible. Of course everyone I met along the way had a comment, as did everyone in the box. All I could think was - PLEASE stop talking to me. Please.

Next thing I knew, I found myself, alone, in a bathroom... crying.

For years, people felt the need to bring that story up. I would laugh along with them because what else do you do? I had always wanted so badly to be an amazing singer, for it to be effortless and natural, and that one failure was more than enough to warrant my fears of insecurity.

It set so deeply in me that it took almost three years for me to pick up the microphone to sing the Anthem again, and even when I did I didn't tell a sole. Eventually I confided in one person, our resident dorm "mom", who coincidently is now my mother-in-law :) I auditioned to sing the National Anthem for my college's basketball games. They heard me sing, signed me up and decided I would start with a women's game for a test run. Sadly not nearly enough people attend our women's basketball games, but in this instance I was VERY happy about that fact. I needed to test the waters and get my confidence back with as few witnesses as possible.

The day had finally come and the arena was practically empty, I was so relieved. But just moments before I took the floor to sing, I heard loud chanting coming from the hallways and my heart dropped to the floor. "Please dear God, no!" Yes, it was them. I was a part of a CRAZY fan group that attended our men's basketball games in college- the Mabee Maniacs. But rarely, if ever, did we attend women's games. I guess I missed the memo that this was their first women's game to attend that season. Lucky me.

So as I took to the floor to sing, hoping they wouldn't realize that I was the one singing, they started chanting- "She's a maniac! She's a maniac!" Seriously God!? What did I do to deserve this?!

All I could do then was go on a wing and a prayer. Surely it couldn't be as bad as the last time! Well thankfully, it wasn't. It was fine. It might not have been anything amazing, but I made it through, I didn't have to start over and they even invited me back.

In fact, during my time at ORU, I sang at more sporting events than I could count. They nicknamed me "Old Faithful" and continued to call me to sing even after I graduated.

As I think back through that story, I wonder how many times in my life have I done the same thing to someone else? How many times has someone smiled and laughed with me as I reopened old wounds, and reaffirmed their hidden insecurities? I honestly shutter to think.

I just wonder how many people are currently sitting on the sidelines because of failure. How many people are refusing to take that leap for fear that they might encounter that pain of rejection all over again? I know I did.

Just because God has given us specific gifts or talents doesn't mean He's somehow promised us that using them won't come with costs, but He expects us to use them anyway. Just because something makes us feel uncomfortable doesn't mean we shouldn't do it. In fact, sometimes it's a good indication that He's trying to stretch us.

I don't know if I'm writing this for anyone other than myself. But I do know that we have the abilities He's given us for very specific reasons and if we are choosing not to use them simply out of fear of the unknown- we are not living to the fullness that He's called us to.