Try it and See

This weekend I got to sing on worship team for the first time since I was pregnant with Ava. I was so excited to go to rehearsal ( my favorite part). I feel like I can really open up and connect with God and the music. As we got into it I realized that that was not how this rehearsal was going to go. My mind became flooded with all that I've forgotten how to do. Simple things like repeats, codas and such. It was a reminder that there is a vast divide between before Ava and after. The brainpower that it takes to focus on a task like that felt daunting.

Then there were the lyrics. We were singing in one song about letting the blind see and the deaf hear. There are so many verses in the Bible about those things. That is what I prayed for for Ava. That she could hear.

So then in order to make it through I thought about the lyrics in the context of the song. We were singing about the blind seeing and deaf hearing not literally. It was about opening up the hearts, eyes and ears of those who do not know God or don't want to know Him. I thought, OK, so I can do this. Whew. Who knew that even singing the word "deaf" would be so hard.

Another song on the We sing that "death won't hurt me now" and "death where it thy sting?". I tried to think about it in the context of the song. Of course what it means is that we are Alive forever, through Christ and His Resurrection. There is no sting in death and it can't hurt us, because it is not the end. It's the beginning. While that brings comfort to know that MY death can't hurt me or sting me as I will be in Heaven. I realized that death for those who are still living has quite a sting. Anyone who has experienced loss knows that.

So, on the way home I decided that I wasn't ready to do this. How could I get up and sing those lyrics? How could I make it though? I was ready to run, hide and never come out. I know that "God is Good" but how can I sing that when I have a wall up for actually worshipping? I get to some level, but to cross that threshold and let the Spirit flow through me is too painful. Too poignant. I don't want to crumble while there are witnesses, of course.

Or is that the reason? I truly believe in the Goodness of God and His Divine plan. I know that what is happening in our family is for His purpose and to bring Glory to Him. I am a willing participate, really. His love for us is what is keeping us together. I get that. But to go to that place right now where the music can flow freely and to be caught up in that type of worship? Really? How do I let go? Letting go leads to uncertainty of my response, while knowing that for certain I will find more ugliness I have to deal with, uncover and grieve.

It takes strength, desire and a willingness to try. It also takes a kick in the pants. U2's "Where the Streets have no Name" becomes my mantra. I want to run, hide, tear down some walls. I want to be with God, but I want to hide behind my walls. If I didn't try. If I called and told the director that I couldn't do it, I would still be stuck behind my walls. Thrashing and trapped.

Freedom comes from letting go and allowing God to move.

I knew if i didn't try it and see, I would be disappointed with myself. So that's what I did. I got up and left the house Sunday morning at 7:15 to make the half hour drive to church. I had no coffee (Allan forgot to turn the pot on and I didn't have time to brew it. I thought about filing for divorce, but I guess we have to exercise forgiveness on a daily basis), and no speaking voice thanks to my germ mongering bugs. Armed with a bottle of water, a sleepy mind and body I was off, mostly comatose.

I practiced. I envisioned a coughing fit so I could skip singing during the two services. I had very low expectations. I met my goal, I stood up there and I sang. All I wanted was to get through it. And I did.

Something transformed in the second service. My walls were crumbling and my guard was down. I was able to worship, not just sing. I got choked up, because the deaths of my children stings and hurts me and it's indescribable. On the flip side my mortality is not painful. It's welcome. God's love for me and you is indescribable and uncontainable too. That's worth the risk to try it and see.