Jamie

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Jamie’s Thoughts

 

The other side of the microphone

Tuesday, May 11th, 2010

I’ve got two weeks as worship leader under my belt. I’ve had a few observations.

1. It’s kinda scary up there. I’m way out of practice. I’ve sung and performed a few times in the past few years, but overall, it’s been awhile. Standing in the spotlight with all eyes on you is intimidating for the shy little girl that still lives inside me.

2. It’s way out of my comfort zone. The whole “leader” part of it is what I don’t like. I could stand up there and sing and even play guitar and be alright. It’s the fact that I’m the one that the band is watching for cues and the congregation is looking toward for guidance. I don’t like that. If something goes wrong, it’s on my head. Yikes.

3. It’s kind of uncomfortable when there are voids of silence here and there. Everyone’s staring, waiting, while the acoustic guitar player is shuffling music and trying to locate his pick. There’s a temptation to fill those voids with something profound and spiritual. But that’s not my style. I prefer to simply sing and let the congregation worship in their own way.

4. Sound check is stressful!!! Those last ten to fifteen minutes before we start the service make me want to tear my hair out. Trying to get everything together and working right is a little more than I can take. I like smooth and easy, and sound check never is.

5. As worship leader, it’s my job to help usher all those present into the presence of God. No pressure. Sometimes, this makes me feel as if I should have it all together spiritually, because if I don’t, what business is it of mine to stand up there and lead worship? Luckily, this is not God’s expectations. He takes my clumsy words and simple melodies and uses them somehow. I confided to a dear friend how ill-equipped I felt for this job. Her response? “Honestly, I’d rather be led in worship by someone humble and aware of their shortcomings than someone overly confident and too animated.” I suppose I would too.

6. In addition to the spotlight, there’s a lot of work that has to be done “behind the scenes.” Picking music, juggling schedules, and leading rehearsal. Trying to choose a good set list is harder than I remember. Need upbeat songs, as well as introspective worship songs… can we do that song with the musicians we have this week… there’s a long thought process that has to be done before I can send out that final list.

7. The talented band of musicians I work with looks to me for guidance. One of those things is praying before rehearsals and before services. I used to be pretty comfortable praying in a group, but now not so much. I feel rusty at prayer, which really makes me sad. It reminds me that my relationship with God is not as close and cozy as it once was.

This is a work in process, and I know I will continue to grow into this role. Thankfully I have a week off so I can breathe for a little while… phew.

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Mother’s Day

Sunday, May 9th, 2010

Mother’s Day always sneaks up on me and takes me by surprise in a weird way. I think it’s a great day, and I truly believe in honoring the hard working mothers that do so much. I love my mom, and am thankful for all that she has done for me throughout my life. But for someone who is not a “technical” mother, Mother’s Day can be a hard day.

It didn’t used to be. Ever since I returned home from tour with the African Children’s Choir, Mother’s Day hits me hard. It’s sometimes a very painful reminder that there are children that I helped mother, who are now continents away from me. They are no longer in my life, and some days the reminder of that is just too much. These kids were a constant part of my life for three years, and now… no more.

When tour was wrapping up, all of us chaperones were doing the best we could to process our way toward the end. I remember talking with one of my fellow chaperones about how it would be when it was all over. She commented that there was going to be the void of having no one to nurture anymore. That was truly a very difficult thing. I remember wiping my tears in the London airport, after painfully watching my kids walk away, and then walking towards the bathroom to wash my face. I kept turning around, looking for the line of 25 kids that used to follow me. There was nothing behind me. I was a mother duck no more.

As I returned home and resumed “normal” life again, the pain lessened. The daily reminders diminished, and the ache dulled to almost nothing. I still miss my kids, but I can think of them without wanting to sit in a corner and cry. The past couple Mother’s Days, I was going about my day as normal, when the reminders came crashing back on me, and I spent the day in a funk, missing my kids more than ever.

This year, I woke up and started my day aware that it was Mother’s Day, but feeling okay. I thought of my kids, but was okay. We got to church and they did the usual honoring of the Mother’s, and our pastor prayed a special prayer. All of a sudden, the dull ache returned, and I started getting weepy. I wiped my eyes, wishing I hadn’t worn mascara, and wondered if the funk would return this year. Fortunately, it didn’t. I wept for my kids and the fact that they’re not in my life anymore, and then I was okay. I was thankful that I can still grieve that loss, but not have it consume me.

Another reason that Mother’s Day is sometimes difficult is that many people don’t consider me a mother. Fortunately, many people are growing more sensitive to this, and include “Mother’s of the heart,” or special women who have helped to raise and nurture children that aren’t their own. I appreciate this greatly, but still hesitate to stand when all the mothers in the church building are asked to stand. There will be people giving me quizzical looks, and maybe I’m also worried there will be rumors started that I’m pregnant or something. I know I shouldn’t worry about what people think, but I also know that I don’t need to stand up to be a mother. I know that I was a mother to those kids, and for that, I am grateful.

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They can’t all be winners

Thursday, May 6th, 2010

When I told Drew I thought I was struggling with writer’s block, he responded, “Good.” Gee thanks. He told me it was a good thing to struggle with, and to figure out how to conquer. I suppose he’s right.

I feel as if I’ve been searching for inspiration lately, and not finding it. Maybe I’m not looking hard enough. Or maybe it’s just not there. Some days when I’m blogging, I feel as if I’m trying to force inspiration, and that’s hard to do. It doesn’t feel so inspired when it’s forced. It just feels forced.

I’m currently reading a book off of Drew’s bookshelf entitled “How to Write.” It’s an interesting book, but sometimes hard to get through, as his writing seems like “high literature” if there is such a term. If I’m focused, I get lots out of it. If my mind wanders, I read sentences five times and often they still don’t sink in. I have managed to get some things out of it in the two and a half chapters I’ve read. I just finished the section on voice, and how choosing the correct voice for your writing is often the hardest decision a writer can make. Really? I feel like I’m still finding the story! I’m kind of aimlessly wandering in my writing, hoping I can stumble onto some sort of theme that will become my niche.

Rewinding to the first chapter of the book, he talks about how to start writing. He had a humorous story from early in his career. He asked someone how to become a writer. The man’s response was, “You apply ass to chair.” I laughed out loud at that one.

The author’s advice on how to become a writer? Write. Write something. Anything. Write a page, a paragraph, a sentence, a word. Just write. I felt encouraged by that much. I am doing that.

As I continue writing, I am discovering that not all these blogs are going to be great. Some are going to be slightly uninspired. But I am making the effort, and continuing to write, and that’s the important thing. It’s like when I pick up my digital camera and begin to shoot. I often will take twenty to thirty pictures of one thing. Are they all great? Nope. That one’s off center, that one doesn’t have a good expression on their face, this one is a little unfocused. But there will be one that is perfect. One that will be the picture I was aiming for. It’s beautiful, centered, focused, and ready to display in a frame. Getting that one perfect shot takes going through all those not so great shots to get it.

I’m finding that I write the same way. It may take several pretty average not so interesting blog posts to get that one really inspired ready to be published post.  I apologize to all my readers who have to sit through the mediocre posts. I hope it’s not like going to a friend’s house and they pull out the slides of their vacation and make you sit through them. Hopefully even in the mediocre posts, there will still be something to walk away with.

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Blessings

Tuesday, May 4th, 2010

Drew and I received a unique wedding gift. It was given to us by a friend, who is now my boss. It’s a glass container filled with tiny scrolls wrapped in orange ribbon. When we opened it, Drew said, “Oh yeah, I think this is a Jewish tradition. Jews put a jar of blessings by the door, and when guests leave, they offer them one.” I thought it was such a great idea and one of my favorite gifts received at our wedding. It was on display on our mantle at our cramped duplex, and I think I may have offered one to our one and only houseguest thus far.

Jar o' Blessings

Anyway, I pulled it out of one the few boxes I managed to unpack, and set it on one of our end tables, where it has remained. I did give a few out recently, when I had a girl’s fondue night. Other than that, they sit there, untouched.

I was searching for inspiration for another blog, and my eyes fell on the jar filled with little wrapped scrolls. I have learned since working with my boss that she gives them often as gifts, and she herself buys them and uses them. I think her intent was for US to read them. Oops. Well, I still like the idea of offering people blessings as they leave, but I suppose I could use a couple for myself.

So I pulled one out and gave myself the challenge of writing about whatever was on the scroll.

May you find precious treasures in your beloved. May her lips drip with honey and her garments be sweetly fragranced. May her fruit be luscious to taste.

Song of Songs 4: 11; 2:3

Um, I think I’ll save that one for Drew.

I picked another one.

May you be harmonious, sympathetic, brotherly, kind-hearted, and humble in spirit; not returning evil for evil, or insult for insult, but giving a blessing instead; for you were called for the very purpose that you might inherit a blessing.

1 Peter 3:8-9

Now, I think that we received the “wedding blessings” package of scrolls, as many of them have husband or wife related blessings (I peeked at a few) so I could relate this to marriage. Be kind to my husband, don’t throw stuff back in his face, don’t insult him, etc. Bless him instead. Got it. Luckily, we do pretty well at that. We have rules for fair fighting that we abide by, and I know I can say I am very blessed by my husband. I hope he can say the same.

I can relate this verse to the rest of my life too. I should be kind to people. I think I usually do a good job of this. But what about the second part? Do I bless people? Or am I so wrapped up in myself that I miss out on opportunities to bless others? I know that I have blessed people in the past, but do I do it daily? Do I wake up wondering how I can bless people? I’m ashamed to say that is not often the first thing on my brain. It’s usually coffee… then we can talk about blessings. Maybe.

I would like to live my life more in a way that blesses those around me. Whether it be the way I interact with my residents or coworkers at work, or doing something special to bless my husband, or even letting that person in front of me in traffic who’s been trying to get out of that parking lot for the last 20 minutes, I want to be a blessing.

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