So, I am a human being. As a human, I struggle with things constantly in my day-to-day life. Some of it is with things like motivation, self-control or trying not to be a catty old hag when I first wake up in the morning, but there is one thing that I believe we all struggle with, every last one of us. That thing is fear.
As mentioned in one of my earlier blog posts, I am a Christian and, at the risk of sounding crazy, I believe God spoke to me many years ago about leading worship and about stepping out and doing music things regularly. For many years, I quite deliberately ran from this. Why? Because I was scared. Because I allowed fear to control me, and I chose to compare myself to others all the time. Constantly. I sat and compared myself with people who had been playing for years, people who were professionals, even, when an old acquaintance gained considerable fame, people who were performing in front of thousands regularly. Was this a realistic thing to do? No. But does fear make you behave irrationally? Yes, I believe it does. However, I also believe that we have control over how much we allow fear to infiltrate into our lives. Sadly, I handed over the reigns to music in my life for years. I was driven by fear.
Just over a year ago, I joined a wonderful home group in my church, which is filled to the brim with people I admire, respect and love. They are so utterly non-judgmental and so supportive that I started to feel like I could maybe, possibly, consider thinking about potentially... leading. I've been singing for years. When it comes to my voice, I can sing in front of a few hundred people and go on stage without a trembling hand or a knocking knee in sight. It's when you put my guitar in my hand that I panic. The small of my back starts to produce so much sweat that it is akin to the Victoria Falls, and my hands are not far behind, making sure I slip my way up the fret board as I tremble and agonisingly wish I was elsewhere. But I'm not. I am here. I am now.
The mistake we so often make with fear is that we say 'when I'm not scared anymore, I'll do it'. I'm judging no one here, because that was my logic for close to a decade. I'll do it when the terror ceases. What I (very) slowly came to realise is that my fear wasn't going anywhere any time soon. For the fear to leave, I had to take the reigns back. For the fear to leave, I needed to show it that I wouldn't let it make me its home anymore. I needed to, as Nike say, just do it.
The first few times, I was so scared I thought I was going to cry. Quite literally. I sat there playing in front of people who have never shown me anything but love and support, terrified. And then it wasn't so terrifying. And then I was only a little scared. And then I wasn't.
I can't tell you that I never struggle with fear and leading worship anymore. I do. What's changed is my attitude, and my ability to turn around and tell fear leave. I know that I'm the one who controls how much fear I allow myself to be ruled by, and I've had enough, which is why I have now said that I will play at an open mic night next week. Am I bricking it? Absolutely. Will that stop me? Well, you'll know when part 2 of 'telling fear where to get off' comes, but I'm certainly hoping it won't.
I don't want to be one of those 'moral of the story' types, but if you, reader, are struggling with fear, I encourage you to step into the fear that you feel, because freedom is worth it. I promise.
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