If I had known. If I had looked at it in advance, I would have realized what I needed to do. If I had realized that for this play, ballet training counted as a “special skill,” I would have stayed for that part of the audition, and I might have been cast. But I didn't know, and I missed my chance.
I didn't realize I had missed it until last Friday, when I went to see the play in performance. As I drove home, I felt very frustrated with myself. It's not the first small mistake that has cost me an opportunity, either. This time could have been different...but it wasn't.
As I got on the freeway, a thought struck me. Do I really believe that God is sovereign? Because my thoughts sure don't seem like I do. I thought about it carefully, and decided that yes, that is what I believe. And do I believe that God is good? Well yes, I believe that too. Then why am I so upset over this?
Because I didn't get what I could have gotten! And there I was, back at square one.
I knew that I needed help to get past this mental hangup, so I turned on the radio. Wouldn't you know it, the first song out of the speakers was “Revelation Song,” by Phillips Craig and Dean. I wanted to just listen, to make mental nods in the back corner of my brain, but I knew that wouldn't help. So I told myself, I will sing this song, and I will not sing it lightly. I will remain focused on the words, I will think about them, and I will believe them.
“Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty,
“Who was and is and is to come.
“With all creation, I sing praise to the King of Kings,
“You are my everything, and I will adore you.”
Was it hard? Absolutely. I choked up a little the first time through “you are my everything,” because that meant that He was more than the play, and more than the shadows of things that I realized I was still holding onto. But I made myself sing it, and I made myself mean it.
The next song was Third Day's “Soul on Fire”:
“God, I'm running to your heart, I'm running to your heart,
“'Till I am a soul on fire,
“Lord, I'm longing for your ways, I'm waiting for the day,
“When I am a soul on fire.
“'Till I am a soul on fire.”
I made myself sing this one too, with the same conditions. I did change the repeat of the last line, though. I said “help me be a soul on fire,” to bring my need of God's help back to the front of my mind. It's not the first time I've changed that line, but I usually don't pay attention while I'm singing, so it doesn't really matter what I say.
It helped. By the time I pulled into the driveway, I was feeling a ton better. I was still disappointed, of course, but my disappointment had been dethroned and forced back into its proper place in my life.
Music has power. Words have power. This is something I've seen play out in a few situations before: when word and music are put together, their power is even greater. When you catch something (or yourself) trying to unseat God and take his place, turn on the worship music. Make yourself sing, and make yourself mean what you say. It makes all the difference in the world.
I didn't realize I had missed it until last Friday, when I went to see the play in performance. As I drove home, I felt very frustrated with myself. It's not the first small mistake that has cost me an opportunity, either. This time could have been different...but it wasn't.
As I got on the freeway, a thought struck me. Do I really believe that God is sovereign? Because my thoughts sure don't seem like I do. I thought about it carefully, and decided that yes, that is what I believe. And do I believe that God is good? Well yes, I believe that too. Then why am I so upset over this?
Because I didn't get what I could have gotten! And there I was, back at square one.
I knew that I needed help to get past this mental hangup, so I turned on the radio. Wouldn't you know it, the first song out of the speakers was “Revelation Song,” by Phillips Craig and Dean. I wanted to just listen, to make mental nods in the back corner of my brain, but I knew that wouldn't help. So I told myself, I will sing this song, and I will not sing it lightly. I will remain focused on the words, I will think about them, and I will believe them.
“Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty,
“Who was and is and is to come.
“With all creation, I sing praise to the King of Kings,
“You are my everything, and I will adore you.”
Was it hard? Absolutely. I choked up a little the first time through “you are my everything,” because that meant that He was more than the play, and more than the shadows of things that I realized I was still holding onto. But I made myself sing it, and I made myself mean it.
The next song was Third Day's “Soul on Fire”:
“God, I'm running to your heart, I'm running to your heart,
“'Till I am a soul on fire,
“Lord, I'm longing for your ways, I'm waiting for the day,
“When I am a soul on fire.
“'Till I am a soul on fire.”
I made myself sing this one too, with the same conditions. I did change the repeat of the last line, though. I said “help me be a soul on fire,” to bring my need of God's help back to the front of my mind. It's not the first time I've changed that line, but I usually don't pay attention while I'm singing, so it doesn't really matter what I say.
It helped. By the time I pulled into the driveway, I was feeling a ton better. I was still disappointed, of course, but my disappointment had been dethroned and forced back into its proper place in my life.
Music has power. Words have power. This is something I've seen play out in a few situations before: when word and music are put together, their power is even greater. When you catch something (or yourself) trying to unseat God and take his place, turn on the worship music. Make yourself sing, and make yourself mean what you say. It makes all the difference in the world.