I was at the Kingdom Invasion conference earlier this month and well, God's been so good. Allow me to ramble. Insecurities - an issue every musician struggles with constantly, especially if one is pursuing it at this level and surrounded by many who are better than said person (yes, you hardly ever look at those on par with yourself. It's almost always a comparison with the big boys)...sighs. Even now, as I write, there is someone else in the room playing an exercise so fluently...and I am struggling with that exercise.
Often times, playing music in a more demanding setting becomes a hazard to those who serve with the music/worship ministry (ie. me). Rather than letting my playing be an expression of worship to Him, I become so conscious of the technical details, the perfection that is demanded of me outside 'me and Him' time, and then I fall into that trap of feeling insecure and completely unworthy of playing before Him. And I let that affect my everyday playing as well.
Day Two of the conference, that's when it happened. I was backstage after serving for the morning session and S came and sat down next to me. We were just having a conversation when I just blurted out how I felt. To my complete surprise, he turned to me and said "I know exactly how you feel". He went on to relate a dream that one of his lecturers had shared with his class once upon a time.
There was a big concert organised in honour of the King. There were millions of people watching. Performer #1 made his grand entrance. He was a professional, a world renown musician. He performed and when he was done, the audience burst into thunderous applause. Performer #2 was no less, and again, when he was done, the audience erupted in cheers and applause. There were still remnants of the applause when the third performer stepped onstage. The hall fell silent.
A little boy in dirty clothes, tattered and mended over countless times, stood centrestage. Lifting the mic to his lips, he began to sing. There was nothing spectacular about this little boy. He sang off-key, mixed up some of the lyrics even. When he sang his last note, its echo could be heard. Not one person clapped. The little boy looked down, dejected and discouraged. But then the King stood up and started clapping. He picked the little boy up and said, "Son, I love it when you sing to me".
What I learnt from this is that God loves our simplicity. He loves what is offered to Him from a sincere and genuine heart. It's difficult to type this because I'm tearing up. Just like S told me he felt like doing when he shared this with me. It was when S was sharing with me that the tears welled up and began flowing. They refused to stop. I shared about Jireh and when I was done, he was just staring at me, baffled, and he asked, "With that assurance of how much He loves you, how could you POSSIBLY feel insecure and unworthy??" The waterworks continued pretty much from then till the end of the conference. He shared one of his testimonies with me after I shared about Jireh and myself, and that evening, interestingly, Ps. Bill Johnson spoke on the power of testimony. How cool is God's sense of humour?
Food for thought. When we serve God in the little that we have, as long as it's from a genuine and sincere heart, God loves it. God loves us. And with a love like that...really...think about it. With a love like that, how could you - or me rather - feel inadequate and insecure?
So that is my testimony, my point of breakthrough. That was the point where I said, "Okay, Lord." For if He chooses to bestow His gifts upon me, He has made me worthy of them and He loves it when I use what He has given to me to glorify His name.
