This morning, Steve told me that last night's blog post didn't touch on my "proud moment" and he thought that was the whole point of me blogging again, so I'm going to see what I can do about correcting that tonight.
I'd stick my tongue out at Steve, but that never ends the way it plays out in my head...
As is quickly becoming common knowledge in my little circle of acquaintances, I am part of what our church calls the Praise and Worship Team. There are technically two or three dozen of us who have the intention of taking turns standing out on stage with individual mics either in front of the choir on Sunday mornings, or without the choir at all on Sunday and Wednesday nights. However, life has this annoying tendency to throw barrels of monkeys with wrenches at pretty much every adult in existence and this typically results in lots of cancellations. Since Steve works with the AV department every service we're in town, it's pretty certain that I'm going to be available to fill in as a substitute even when I'm not actually scheduled. So I sing quite a bit.
Remember when I said that my confidence in my own abilities is somewhat lacking? Yeah.
What the congregation sees each service:
~singers move onto the stage and mill around for a few minutes, putting their heads together with the musicians and worship leader to solidify plans before praying as a team and taking their places on stage
~music starts, songs are performed, everyone claps
~Pastor begins service while singers step back and wait for the offering to be called
~singers belt out another song while ushers collect the offering
~singers and musicians leave the stage and take their seats with everyone else in the congregation
Want to know what is really going on, at least from my perspective?
I enter the building already comparing myself to everyone around me, wondering if what I chose to wear is good enough to be on stage in the first place. Let's be serious here. This is me we're talking about! I got married in cowboy boots and jeans!! When I already know I'm going to be singing, I do my best to dress like a lady and be feminine. Which means I feel like I'm three and I just raided my grandmother's closet. I have been told repeatedly by the other ladies in the choir to "stop fidgeting!" and to "quit tugging on your dress!" The other ladies begin comparing shoes and complimenting everyone on such amazing taste in footwear. I smile and pretend I picked out my own shoes. (Thank the Lord for salespeople who know how to match shoes to outfits, cuz I honestly see no reason why boots don't go with absolutely everything under the sun.)
Time for everyone to get into place. I grab my mic, head up to my designated spot on the stage, and wait patiently for Steve and Jason to finish torturing us with the spotlights.
The music begins.
Wait! What song is that?? That's not what I saw on the playlist! Do I know the words to this one?? Oh yeah, now I remember this one. Oh no! What KEY is that?? I distinctly remember practicing this song in a different key!
Okay, now I got it. This isn't so bad. I've got my groove now. Whoa... wobbled on these stupid heels again. Maybe just standing in one place is a better idea. I can be caught up in the spirit of the song. Yeah. I'm feeling the atmosphere of the song, not afraid of faceplanting in front of God. That's a good story. I'll stick to that.
Hey, the worship leader changed the order of the lyrics! Did the other singers know? Oh good, we all look like deer in headlights. Maybe the congregation will think it's just part of the choreography.
Oh thank goodness we're almost done. My feet are KILLING me! Wait, not allowed to take the shoes off when I'm out here in front. Okay, just rock back and forth really slowly and lift one foot, then the other. That'll feel better.
Here comes Pastor. Maybe he'll let us off stage early. Nope. Alrighty, just keep rocking. Just keep rocking. One foot up. Note to self: never wear a pink dress; people will think you're a flamingo. Other foot up now.
Why is Steve up in the AV room dancing with a big foam cowboy hat on his head? Do NOT start giggling while standing behind Pastor. Stop looking at the AV window. Stop looking. OMG, are they dueling with toy light sabers????
Switch feet. Now I know why men stopped wearing heels in the 1400s. It was only French men, though, wasn't it? I don't remember paintings of English royal men in 5 inch heels. No, they always had the armor with the funny shaped... stop that! You're in CHURCH!!
Pastor just said something and everyone is clapping. What did he say?? We're supposed to be repeating what he says. I can't understand him back here! "Yes, watermelon walla walla. Walla Amen walla aluminum." Close enough.
Switch feet. What if I just wiggle my toes a bit inside the shoes? Oh that's better. Wait, no. They hurt again.
Last song. Just walk slowly, everyone will think we're following the music. No one will know we're afraid of falling over on toes that went numb ages ago. Ack. Not numb anymore! Owie owie owie!
Wait, "owie" isn't actually one of the lyrics. If I happen to kick my shoes off in time with the music, will anyone notice? With my luck I'll bounce my heel off the Pastor's wife.
Oh! Song's over! We're leaving the stage. First step. Second step. Almost there. Bottom step! I made it!
THESE SHOES COME OFF NOW!!!
You think I'm kidding. I currently hold the record for clearing an entire row of seats with the left shoe before getting the right shoe off.
Yep. That's pretty much how our services go in my head when I'm one of the mic singers, so obviously I'm only up there because there is absolutely no one else they can ask and I'm their last resort so they must be spectacularly desperate to be asking me at all.
Stupid tide of doubt. Go AWAY!
Tonight after service, a gentleman I don't know stepped out of the crowd and hugged me and said I was "gorgeous and did good up there."
Talk about making my night! I was on cloud nine as I'm pretty sure I fluttered out to my car with my kids wondering what was wrong with me.
And about broke my nose when I opened my car door and forgot to move my head.