For: The Essentials in Worship Leading Online Course with Dan Wilt
As I have been slowly learning the ropes of worship leading, I have discovered a weakness of mine. This weakness probably should be categorized as a highly dangerous disease, actually. It would be called the "I Wish Syndrome". Oh yes, you know the one-the "I wish I could sing like she can.", I wish I could write songs as 'easily' as he can.", "I wish I could play the keys (or whatever instrument you can imagine) as well as he can", or maybe even the infamous "I wish I were she (or he, of course)." disposition. Well, I have caught it and am trying to rid myself of it (not an easy task)!
I am sure that most people would say that I have caught this dreaded disease because I am beginning my journey to becoming a worship leader and I am a newish guitar player and with those come many insecurities, but those are only excuses. Trust me, I could write out a loooong list of excuses, but that would be a waste of a blog post, I think.
As I have been thinking much about how to get out of this mindset recently, I remembered something my worship leader/highschool pastor told me, "Give everything to God, even your mistakes." Wow, what a thought! Does God really care if our voices are or are not on key, or if we can't or can play the guitar well, or if we are able to sing harmony? I don't think so.
(Now, I am fully aware that as both a musician and as a worship leader-albeit a beginner-that it IS important to those around us that their worship leader not be a terrible musician and be able to sing on key, but I am specifically referring to our personal worship times with the Lord. I'll cover leading worship for a group of people later.)
God made us the way we are and he is pleased with His work. Is it glorifying to Him when we look at ourselves and say "I wish this." or "I wish that."? Nope. Not even close. He made us to be able to sing the way we do and/or to be able to play the way we can. However, I do NOT mean that it is wrong in any way to learn more about your instrument or vocal abilities or pray that He would increase your vocal range or what-have-you. In fact, I think that that is the exact thing to do.
Now back to the topic of leading others in worship. I think that it is important that the leader be a good or even great musician and that he (or she) be able to sing in key, but even then, as my youth pastor pointed out, it is very important that they be able to give their mistakes to God. As worship leaders, it is essential that we not only focus on the technical side of worship. There are things way more important (such as worshipping Christ!) than how well the keyboardist plays or how gorgeous the voice of the backup singer is.
After pondering this and putting my thoughts down on paper (and the internet), I think I have found the cure to the "I Wish Syndrome": merely the thought that we are made by our Heavenly Father the way He intended us to be.
This is what I think. What about you?
Friday, June 18, 2010
Friday, June 4, 2010
What Sam Did
Recently, a friend of mine from church asked me what I want to do with my life. What a question! If he had asked me this a year and a half ago, I would have only been able to tell him what every girl would-I want to be a wife and a mother. A lot has happened since then.
Last January, I met a boy. Surprising, right? A girl met a boy and he "changed her life". Heard that one before? Well, my story is a little bit different.
Sam was so handsome. He had long, platinum-blond hair and blue eyes that could make any girl's heart stop (even if they liked hazel, green, or grey eyes better). Sam was special and different from any other boy I have met. He loved to listen to me and was never rude. If I was having a bad day, I knew I could tell him anything and he would listen with sympathy in his gorgeous eyes. Sammy loved to go long walks together with me and listen to the sound of the birds chirping and and the small brook running. He and I would get together almost every day for almost eight months. I would bring his favorite snack, freeze-dried apples, and we would either talk, go for a walk, or do chores together. Sam was always there for me when I needed him and I was always there for him when he needed me.
He was only thirteen when he died.
Sam had a common eye disease called ERU that made him blind and caused him tremendous pain in his eyes. The pain become so intense that it was decided that a doctor must come and handle the situation. One of Sam's caretakers called me and told me of the heartwrenching decision that was made-Sam was to be put down.
See, Sam was a horse. (I am sure that is really surprising to those of you who know me even a little. Margie? Falling in love with a horse and spending every single spare minute with him? To be expected.)
This news was so overwhelming to me that the only thing that could help me settle down was hard manual work. So I shoveled dirt out of an old, abandoned stall and pulled weeds for about two hours before I was able to think clearly and pull myself together once again.
The next day I came over to be with Sam for a few last hours. I had decided that it was best for me not to be present while he was being put down. As hard as this was for me, I realized that it was the right decision for Sam and that was most important. He did not need to spend his last minutes hearing me cry.
Even though I did not know Sammy for very long, he made a huge impact on my life. He gave me a little taste of what it was like to be blind. I had to watch carefully for anything that could possible cause him to fall or hurt him and either guide him around it or let him know where it was. I had to be constantly stroking him or talking to him to let him know where I was so I didn't accidentally startle him.
Sam also redefined my definition of trust. Before I began to work with Sammy, he would barely allow his owner to take him out of his stall because nobody had ever really taken the time to slow down and keep an eye out for things that could hurt him. They treated him as if he was not blind and could see that root on the ground that he needed to step over. He used to jump at every little noise and shuffle his hooves to keep from tripping.
After months of working with him every day for hours at a time, he was like a totally different horse. No longer did he shuffle his hooves, not want to leave his stall, or freak out at every sound. No, now he would walk with his head held high adn would even be excited to out in the arena. He eventually let me ride him, although I did have to ride him bareback so he knew I was there. He would start to prance excitedly if he heard the sound of his bridle coming out of the shed. Before long, Sam learned to trust me so much that, as long as I rode him bareback, he would run at any pace I wished withought any fear at all.
After working with Sam for so long, I developed a want to work with abused or disabled horses. My hope is to get these horses so well rehabilited that I can offer a place to disabled or abused children to come be with, tend to, care for, love on, and ride these horses. Over the past eight and a half years of my working wit horses in general, I have discovered a creature that can somehow calm people down with ease, is incredible loyal (for the most part), will listen to whatever you may say to it, and if you look and listen properly, will respond. I want to share what I have seen to those who cannot see. I want to give a friend to those who have none because of their disabilities.
So, that is what Sammy did for me. Not bad, huh?
Last January, I met a boy. Surprising, right? A girl met a boy and he "changed her life". Heard that one before? Well, my story is a little bit different.
Sam was so handsome. He had long, platinum-blond hair and blue eyes that could make any girl's heart stop (even if they liked hazel, green, or grey eyes better). Sam was special and different from any other boy I have met. He loved to listen to me and was never rude. If I was having a bad day, I knew I could tell him anything and he would listen with sympathy in his gorgeous eyes. Sammy loved to go long walks together with me and listen to the sound of the birds chirping and and the small brook running. He and I would get together almost every day for almost eight months. I would bring his favorite snack, freeze-dried apples, and we would either talk, go for a walk, or do chores together. Sam was always there for me when I needed him and I was always there for him when he needed me.
He was only thirteen when he died.
Sam had a common eye disease called ERU that made him blind and caused him tremendous pain in his eyes. The pain become so intense that it was decided that a doctor must come and handle the situation. One of Sam's caretakers called me and told me of the heartwrenching decision that was made-Sam was to be put down.
See, Sam was a horse. (I am sure that is really surprising to those of you who know me even a little. Margie? Falling in love with a horse and spending every single spare minute with him? To be expected.)
This news was so overwhelming to me that the only thing that could help me settle down was hard manual work. So I shoveled dirt out of an old, abandoned stall and pulled weeds for about two hours before I was able to think clearly and pull myself together once again.
The next day I came over to be with Sam for a few last hours. I had decided that it was best for me not to be present while he was being put down. As hard as this was for me, I realized that it was the right decision for Sam and that was most important. He did not need to spend his last minutes hearing me cry.
Even though I did not know Sammy for very long, he made a huge impact on my life. He gave me a little taste of what it was like to be blind. I had to watch carefully for anything that could possible cause him to fall or hurt him and either guide him around it or let him know where it was. I had to be constantly stroking him or talking to him to let him know where I was so I didn't accidentally startle him.
Sam also redefined my definition of trust. Before I began to work with Sammy, he would barely allow his owner to take him out of his stall because nobody had ever really taken the time to slow down and keep an eye out for things that could hurt him. They treated him as if he was not blind and could see that root on the ground that he needed to step over. He used to jump at every little noise and shuffle his hooves to keep from tripping.
After months of working with him every day for hours at a time, he was like a totally different horse. No longer did he shuffle his hooves, not want to leave his stall, or freak out at every sound. No, now he would walk with his head held high adn would even be excited to out in the arena. He eventually let me ride him, although I did have to ride him bareback so he knew I was there. He would start to prance excitedly if he heard the sound of his bridle coming out of the shed. Before long, Sam learned to trust me so much that, as long as I rode him bareback, he would run at any pace I wished withought any fear at all.
After working with Sam for so long, I developed a want to work with abused or disabled horses. My hope is to get these horses so well rehabilited that I can offer a place to disabled or abused children to come be with, tend to, care for, love on, and ride these horses. Over the past eight and a half years of my working wit horses in general, I have discovered a creature that can somehow calm people down with ease, is incredible loyal (for the most part), will listen to whatever you may say to it, and if you look and listen properly, will respond. I want to share what I have seen to those who cannot see. I want to give a friend to those who have none because of their disabilities.
So, that is what Sammy did for me. Not bad, huh?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)