There was a little more than a minute left on the countdown before first service. I sat back stage in the greenroom with the rest of the praise team, who were chatting and catching up. I stood up and gave my traditional invitation: “Let’s go play some music.” Everyone got up and followed me onto the stage. I took a quick survey of the room. Everything seemed to be going well. We had had a good rehearsal. All of our tech was running well. The room even seemed to be abnormally full for the beginning of first service.
The lights came up and I confidently counted the band in for the first song - Glorious Day by Casting Crowns. As we played, I turned my focus toward worshipping God.
That’s when it happened.
A couple of our regular attenders came in late with a guest in tow. The only seats still available being in the front row. They made their way to the seats and turned toward the stage. I caught them out of the corner of my eye, and glanced over. Their guest stood looking at me, with a truly unimpressed and cynical expression on his face. He furrowed his brow and smiled in such a way as to say, “These guys can’t be serious. What a joke.” His body language, or at least what I assumed based on his body language, communicated a deep sarcastic disdain for church, worship music, and my expression worship to God. Instantly the church’s auditorium was transformed from a safe place into a terrifying nightmare. Every other person seemed to fade away, and I could only see that one guy in the front row.
I looked around the room, trying not to look at the guy. I tried to focus on the words of the music, but my mind kept creeping back to the imaginary conversation in my head, where he sarcastically cut down my faith and works. I felt naked with no way to escape.
Like the King
In that moment, I was reminded of King David. Facing the sneering cynicism of Goliath, David was not moved, but armed with a piece of leather and his pet rock. He was as confident as ever with ‘The God of the armies of Israel’ standing behind him.
I reflected on David and thought where is my David-like faith? The guy in the front row hadn’t even said anything, and I was starting to feel queasy. I felt weak and shameful. I was standing there on stage leading God’s people, and I felt like jumping ship.
I wish I could tell you that, in that moment, I prayed a magical prayer and God miraculously gave me great faith. But that didn’t happen. I continued to feel insecure through the rest of the service. I even felt a little relieved when the guy was gone. But as I reflected on the morning, it highlighted an area of my faith that I can pray about, and ask, “God, what was that all about?”
Always Remember
The important thing for me (and you) to remember is that it’s okay to be weak. It’s okay to be less than confident. It’s okay to be afraid. It’s even okay to feel freaked out when you’re on stage leading God’s people because life isn’t about being perfect. In fact, life is really about all the imperfections. It’s really great that none of us are perfect, because God uses those tainted things about us to teach us about His love. He uses them to make us great, and ultimately make us everything we’re not.
“Consider it all joy, my brothers and sisters, when you face trials of many kinds, because you know the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so you may be mature and complete, lacking in nothing." - James 1:2-4
Photo courtesy of Tom Chandler at Flickr.com
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