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(This is the twelfth post in the Serenity Prayer Series)
I began writing in earnest, after years of just piddling with some poetry here and there, when I “lost my voice” and had to lay down singing professionally. (You can read about my whole journey if you grab a mug of tea, wrap up in a cozy blanket, and go here: https://functionalish.com/lories-story/ then click on all the little light green links as you go to get the whole story.)
This was the second time I’d had to “surrender” singing, though this was the first time I’d had to do it of my own will. And to this day, it is a tender spot that still hurts like hell when you press it. And it often gets pressed at the most inopportune times—like at my son’s Christmas concert, while I was sitting IN THE THIRD ROW. The Honors Chorale, which my son surprised me by trying out for, was up to do their three pieces on the program, the first of which, unbeknownst to any of us, started with a solo by my son.
This was not, however, as you’ll soon find out, the owie thing. This was a moment of complete shock and incredulity—as in, WHY DIDN’T THE LITTLE BOOGER TELL US HE HAD A SOLO?!?!?! (“I just forgot…” WHO “FORGETS” THEY HAVE THE LARGEST SOLO ON THE PROGRAM?!?!?!?!) and, after just two months of voice lessons, HOLY CRAP MY SON CAN REALLY SING!!!!!!!!! It was a memorable moment full of dropped jaws and eyes bulging open and all of us looking at each other like, WHAT. JUST. HAPPENED?!?!?!?!
They went on to sing their second number—they usually do a fun number, a harder number, and then, what she calls a “stretch piece.” The second number went off without a hitch, then I looked down at my program to see what the stretch piece was.
And I froze.
I had sung this piece. In the Anderson University Chorale, with a director I still adore to this day. And again, several times, in the Masterworks Chorale, the professional group we sang with in the city we first lived when we were married.
It was one of my absolute favorites.
And I am starting to cry just THINKING about it. Does that tell you just how painful surrender can still be, even twenty years later?
They began to sing, and I closed my eyes, which was a bad idea—because I began to see movie clip after movie clip of my choral experiences play, unbidden. And I began to tear up.
Soon, those tears began to escape, one by one, down my cheek, and caught them swiftly with a finger, moving as little as possible so as to not be detected. But within seconds it was too late, as they were forming groups and escaping together, and I was forced to take off my glasses and wipe my cheeks full handed.
As the song swelled, the glorious music growing, I sank further and further down into my seat, clenching my jaw with a prayer I was not cracking any teeth and taking long, deep breaths so as to not start involuntarily convulsing with the sobs I was just barely holding back. THIS is what surrendering music has looked like for me.
It has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do.
Until now.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
Writing filled, to the extent it could, the void left by stepping back from singing at that caliber to raise my family. And I was thankful for that gift.
That gift soon turned into leading a writer’s group and into starting a blog and into attending writing conferences and eventually to writing and pitching two top-notch book proposals to agents and completing a rough draft of my first manuscript. All while my kids were at school on my off days from counseling about 25-30 clients a week.
The goal—oh, the audacity I had at that age, to think I could have GOALS—was to continue writing and counseling, with hopefully some speaking thrown in on the side, until my writing income was enough to leave the counseling and write full time. This was THE PLAN. And I was firmly set in it. Like a rock on a trail that you go to pick up only to determine it’s only the very TIP of a rock much larger than it let on, buried so deep in the hardly packed soil that you can’t budge it loose despite your best efforts and have to move on, hoping to find another as glorious to illegally sneak into your pocket. (I’m sorry State and Nations Parks—I just can’t help myself!!! But hey—I ALMOST snuck a couple back from the Channel Islands National Park in CA and I DIDN’T. And Tom didn’t even have to yell at me! At least not more than once. Okay, twice. But STILL, I am redeemed!)
Life carried on this way until a few quite unexpected things happened that began to wiggle at my rock.
First, some changes happened with the counseling center that were different from the philosophy we’d all been hired in under—and though the emotional fallout of this was unintended, we all initially felt deeply devalued and hurt by the outcome.
Around the same time—I should note my chronic fatigue and Epstein Barr were slowing making their way into the scene, and I’d been dealing with chronic pain and migraines for years, both of which were just barely under control—I got knock-you-on-your-butt sick (which happened to me A LOT) and while I was able to maintain going to work (if I didn’t see clients, I didn’t get paid—so I tried to miss as little work as possible) I was NOT able to maintain the not one but TWO fairly popular blogs I had been running.
Between those two things happening together, in addition to having spoken very successfully to the entire staff over a year ago and our senior pastor joking about me preaching but then nothing ever coming of it, I hit a wall and didn’t get up.
Then a young woman on staff who I adore was asked to preach. On EMOTIONAL HEALTH. AND WAS TOLD TO TALK TO ME FOR IDEAS AND RESOURCES.
And at that point, my rock had come loose. There was no future for me here. The Plan had crumbled. I began to pray and talk to my best friend about other options.
THEN the pastor role over one of the ministries I now oversee opened up.
THEN the young woman was unable to preach and I was offered the spot.
THEN I was directly asked to consider applying for the position.
And THEN I began to wonder if I’d had the wrong plan.
1.8.13, my devotional reads:
Our problem is that we become too easily enamored with our own plans. If we are attempting to do noble or difficult things, we assume that we must be experiencing the maximum potential for our lives and that God must, therefore, be pleased with us. Until we have heard from God, we cannot even imagine all that our lives could become or all that God could accomplish through us.
We need to remind ourselves that the Father sees the “big picture,” that His power far exceeds our limited imagination. We must set aside our own agenda, however lofty. We must never become satisfied with our own dreams, for they are finite at best. When we follow God’s direction we will witness things happening in our lives that can only be explained by His powerful presence. How could we be satisfied with anything less?
And he had my attention. (Especially because I don’t typically even READ devotionals.)
But I was doubtful—who was I to think I should be a PASTOR? Was I capable? Was I worthy? Was I ready?
1.16.13
Big assignments require big characters. God will give you a responsibility in proportion to the size of your character. In Bible times, a person’s name represented his character; to know someone’s name was to know what that person was like. That’s why God changed the name of some when he transformed their character…
God sees your life from His eternal perspective. He will take whatever time is necessary to grow your character to match His assignment for you. If you have not received a divine commission lately, it may be that your character needs maturing. Are you impatient to begin your work before God has refined your character? A small character will fail in a large responsibility every time. Don’t be too hasty to get to the work. Character building can be long and painful.
How is God building your character? Do you sense He has a task for you that will require a far greater man or woman than you present are? Will you yield to God as He works in your life to prepare you for your next assignment?
DEFINITELY had my attention.
Because besides the fact it answered my direct question, have I told you my name?
My name means GLORIOUS VICTORY and GRACE.
I had NO QUESTION he was speaking, and I needed to listen.
The process continued. I asked my small group to pray for me. My leader was another pastor. He prayed I would know I would be entering a “Royal Priesthood” if I took the job and that I would need to remember I was not just leading a ministry, but a pastor to the entire body of Christ. That night, 1.20.13:
If you are a Christian, you are a priest, chosen by God. As a member of the royal priesthood you have constant access to the King… The priest represents God to the people, but he also takes the people’s concerns to God… Our world hungers for an expression of Christ as he really is, living out His life through His people.
This was getting weird. But oh, so exciting…
I turned in my application on 2.4.13.
I met with the senior pastor just to talk about the position on 2.8.13. But I was still a bit conflicted about the position—still wanting to cling to The Plan.
2.9.13
Our Lord does not come to us to discover what we would like to accomplish for Him. He encounters us in order to reveal His activity and invite us to become involved in His work. An encounter with God requires us to adjust ourselves to the activity of God that has been revealed… When God shows us what he is doing, He invites us to join Him in the work He is doing.
I have written in the margin, “Seems like another confirmation?”
YA THINK?
My scripture for the day that pops up on my phone without biding, immediately after I had the gall to ask one morning for more confirmation. After all, I’d never been a pastor before! Would I even know what to do? How would I lead this ministry? What would I do with it???
2.11.13
Commit to the Lord all you do, and he will establish your plans. Proverbs 16:3
How’s THAT for an answer???
2.20.13 First round of interviews for the position—Pastor of Support and Recovery. My devotional?
Your life is designed and commissioned by God to enhance a community and preserve what is good and right… The presence of Christ in you makes all the He is available to others. His salvation can free an addict, mend a broken home, heal the pain of the past, restore a wayward child, and comfort a grieving heart. All of this is available to those around you as Christ expresses His life through you.
But what about the counseling center? What about my clients? What about The Plan???
2.29.13 Second interviews.
A mark of spiritual maturity is a willingness to sacrifice personal comfort in order to strengthen other believers… As Christians, we ought to be so devoted to strengthening one another’s faith that we pursue this goal relentlessly, even if it means laying down our lives… As God reveals to you what those around you need in order to grow their faith, be prepared to make the necessary sacrifice on behalf of your fellow Christians.
On 3.2.13 my senior pastor called me into his office for a “second interview” with him. And he offered me the job.
I went promptly from that to present a workshop at our Women’s conference, directly from there to worship team rehearsal, directly from there to dinner, then to leading worship, then to the main session, then to more worship, then to praying for others, then home and into my bed.
And THAT was when it all sank in.
And I began to panic.
What if now isn’t the right time? What if this isn’t what’s right for my kids? What if my kids are too young? What if this scars them for life? What if this isn’t right for my family? What if the timing is bad for us? What if I should wait another couple of years? And on, and on, and on…
Then I remembered my devotional.
I picked it up and turned to 3.2.13. The title jumped off the page: …………Now Is the Acceptable Time.
Ummm… WHAT?!?!?!
The verse for the day was my favorite passage in scripture from Isaiah 61.
ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!?!?!
And then I read this:
God’s timing is perfect! When He speaks, the time to respond in obedience is now… There is no such thing as postponing a decision with God. Either we obey, or we disobey. It is either faith or unbelief, obedience or disobedience.
When God announces that now is the acceptable time, what you do next is critical… God’s timing is always perfect. He knows you, and he is fully aware of your circumstances. He knows all that He has built into your life until now, and He extends His invitation knowing that His resources are more than adequate for any assignment He gives you.
I immediately thrust the book at my husband, and as he reads, his eyebrows raise, and he looks at me, wide-eyed. My daughter, sitting on the bed, asks what we are reading. I hand it to her.
Her eyebrows raise.
She finishes, looks up at me, and says, “So, I guess you’re taking the job, huh?”
I took the job. Then fought for a promotion over the entire umbrella of pastoral care ministries three years later and got it.
And in the meantime, Keira got sick, sicker, and sickest.
And then I followed the same trajectory.
Why did I tell you this story? Especially considering our topic—trusting God will make all things right if I will surrender to his will.
I have surrendered many things along this journey, the first of which being a counseling practice full of people I genuinely cared for and some of whom I still miss to this day. I sat on my little couch in my office my last night and sobbed as a slideshow of all the miracles that had happened on that couch played in front of me. It took me ten minutes to compose myself enough to go out to my car and drive home.
As I went to full time in the new role, I surrendered summer days with my kids. I grieved that loss—those were cherished times for me.
I surrendered being on the worship team—finally getting my voice back—after taking years to get up the courage to audition just two years prior.
I surrender the dream of my daughter graduating in the traditional manner from the school she’d attended since kindergarten.
I surrendered teaching classes and doing events I loved because I was beginning to find they drained me.
I surrendered being room mom. And cafeteria mom. And chaperone mom.
I surrendered, after I got promoted, writing on Functionalish, because I no longer had the extra moments here and there to write and I was tired.
I surrendered cooking, cleaning, going to the grocery—JUST KIDDING!!! I dropped those babies like a HOT POTATO and NEVER WANT THEM BACK.
I surrendered to medical leave when it became clear things weren’t getting better.
Which meant I also surrendered a coveted preaching spot.
When I came back, I surrendered my spot on one of our senior leadership teams, trying to take things off my plate and cut back.
But I still haven’t answered the question—why did I take the time—SOOOOOO MUCH TIME—to tell you that story?
Our senior pastor has a story of how God spoke to he and his wife VERY CLEARLY on three different occasions to confirm that he was to take the role as the first senior pastor of our embryonic church, over 25 years ago. Any of us who have been on staff long enough can tell you the story—because he shares it as a reminder of God’s faithfulness to him and to our church. And whenever he or his wife have ANY doubt, whatsoever, that story is there to anchor them. Yes. We are where we are supposed to be. God spoke VERY CLEARLY. THIS is our place.
That story is my confirmation story.
My yes, you heard me right, story.
And I needed to be reminded of it. Because I think God is loosening another rock. And I don’t know what it means.
But I know another request to surrender something important to me is on its way.
And I need to be able to trust that he WILL make all things right.
Fortunately, my favorite writer, Paul, has already prayed for me:
May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.
Romans 15:13
There is so much more I want to say, but so little attention span left for all of us. So, I will save it for an unintended Part Two and leave you with this:
Even now, I have a “The Plan” I cling to in my head. Senior leadership. Being on the preaching team. Publishing. Getting healthy. Getting my daughter healthy. And by cling, I mean completely wrap myself around and grasp with a death grip, growling at anyone who attempts to take it away from me.
But there’s one thing I know for certain—God won’t pry anything out of my bloody hands. Whatever it is, he’s not going to forcibly TAKE it from me. I’m going to have to let go on my own. And I don’t know how he’s going to get me there.
I just know that he WILL.