This is my story:
They say life is a journey… which sounds great, unless you’re a homebody like me.
I never set out to change the world. I wasn’t all that interested in going on adventures or anyone knowing my name. All I wanted was to find my place and stay there.
But that’s not been my journey.
The past several years can be best described as “semi-nomadic” and have taken me places I never thought I’d go, doing things I never thought I’d do. It looks so different than what I had planned, for a long time I thought I must have made a wrong turn somewhere along the way. But I’m learning that things aren’t always what they seem… sometimes the things you wanted weren’t really what you wanted after all… sometimes wrong turns bring you to the right places… and not all who wander are lost.
This is my song:
When I was a toddler I used to climb up on the bench that went to our inherited great-grandmother’s parlor grand piano and pretend like I knew what I was doing. It sounded exactly as you would imagine a young child playing the piano would sound. My mother delights in telling everyone that I was completely tone deaf until about the age of 7.
Today, I step behind keyboards and pianos (and the occasional guitar) of all shapes and sizes, in little rooms and occasionally on great big stages… and still pretend like I know what I’m doing. Thankfully, things sound a little better than when I was small.
I’ve been learning how to sing my song. Not just my songs, but the song that God has made me to be. Sometimes my song is pretty, sometimes it’s a hot mess. Sometimes it’s technically correct, most times it’s a jumble of notes and words that don’t really go together well. But I’m learning to accept that the point isn’t perfection, or even proficiency, the point is that we sing. We sing as a way to guide our thoughts, and through them our lives. We sing as a means of expressing the truth that God has given us to live loud. We sing, not because we’re good at it, but because we can.