Part 3 of "Surreal doesn't describe it..." or (God's Surreal is Real When You're Ready...)

Friday, the 17th of June, was a day that has marked my life in significant proportions.  It was the day of clear skies, warm winds, a traditional style train ride (ie. steam engine!), and a concert by two men that God has used to demonstrate His point in my walk with Him.   It was a day of divine appointments, and whether those have started a ripple affect for the course of the rest of my life, well only my Lord knows that answer, but I will rejoice in knowing that my God loves and delights in His child, little 'ol me, enough to consider me sufficiently important to have had to place me in such humbling circumstances as I've already disclosed in Part 2 of this story.

Later that evening as I was reeling from obvious emotion from the day's events God positioned three very profound impressions on my heart.    The first impression was more a shot-in-the-arm-dose of encouragement.  As a result, I winced tearfully when I heard it.

"You are not an idiot.  It was purposely a humbling experience."  

Wow, I was being humbled.

"But God, really?  In front of Phil and Barry?  You deem me that important?"  I questioned as tears rolled down my face.

The next impression was this:

"I was using Phil Stacey to say to you 'I am serious about the calling I have put on your life'".  Wow...again.

"And I have used Barry Ward to encourage you that your age is irrelevant...you're not getting too old for what I've called you to do."

(Let me preface this last impression by saying...and just in case Barry or Victoria ever reads this...that Barry is not old.  In fact, I'm married to one who is about as old as he, give or take a couple of years.  You see, Barry didn't start his full-time music ministry until only two years ago, at an age that most musicians start winding down, unlike young Phil who started early in life.  Ugh!  I hope I'm getting this out right! And, apparently, I needed this visual for the Lord to make His point.  I feel old, my body hurts, and I once heard that as the male voice advances and gets stronger as he grows older, the female voice only gets worse.  So there you have it...the worry of a dying voice!  And my Savior wanted me to know otherwise.  Isn't He good y'all!)

Alas! The third and final impression I received was really not an impression at all, but a question; one that was asked with a  disciplinary tone of a Father  Who has waited for this moment to meet with His sometimes-wayward-can't-take-a-whole-lot-of-pain child face-to-face.

"Who told you not to play?"

And at that moment with widened eyes it all came clear to me...as hind-site 20/20 always does...I had listened to the wrong voice.  The Voice of Pain.

Yeah I know, I need to explain myself.  Back in January I thought I sensed the Lord putting me on a one year sabbatical from playing my guitar and leading worship, as I was doing on a consistent basis in the previous twelve months.  Meanwhile, as the year progressed so did the pain in my left hand, wrist, and thumb.  As a result and by the end of December, my whole left arm and then my right began to hurt as well.  I was beside myself and very discouraged.  Although, it did not so much as affect my playing when I played as it did the rest of my day following the worship set.  It throbbed, in fact.  Hence, the relief that I felt when I interpreted the thought of sabbatical to be HIS voice.  Now I know better.  Did I need a break?  Probably.  But not for a whole year.  Could God heal me as I do the thing that hurts my joints the most?  Absolutely, without a doubt!  Will He?  Don't know.  I am not God.  However, if He's confronted me about this then I've got to wonder with awe what He might want to do through this pain, wouldn't you?

Accordingly, since God has made these impressions strikingly clear on my heart I have made the decision to move forward and practice, practice, practice...without the crutch of the paper in sight, stamping and stirring the words to memory (supernatural memory for this brain of mine!), so that at any time when God places me in a situation of testing that I may not be humbled, but pass the test of having confidence in the calling He has created me for doing.  Interestingly, that Sunday my Pastor preached on just this thing. He shared a story, and in this case it was about a talented boy on the basketball court whom forgot the very thing he was gifted at...shooting the ball.  Instead he passed the ball...his weakness.  At the end, the coach said this...and I will never forget it, because it spoke right into the very situation I found myself in just two days prior:

"Son, when you're ready to be a shooter, let me know."

And then I heard...

"Cindy, when you're ready to be what I've called you to be...a singer/songwriter...let me know."

Here I am Lord.  I'm ready!

Now on to the Salon to reshape this mess that crowns my head!

Enjoying My Kup...

                       Cindy