I keep a copy of this photo close by. My great-grandmother is on the far right. My great-great grandmother is on the far left. My grandmother is the little girl.
I keep this photo for several reasons.
- It’s a gathering of the powerful Howard women.
- The hats
- My great-grandmother (far right) looks so superior, and she WAS.
I wrote the following post a few weeks ago, but I have been afraid to post it for a few reasons.
- I don’t want you to see how self-centered and insecure I can be.
- I don’t want you to read too much into the angels thing. I believe in angels and they have a work to accomplish, but I’m not obsessed with the doctrine.
- It’s *another* post about how scared I am to play the violin at church.
You can read it or skip it. If you don’t like it, that’s ok because I’m pretty sure all of these women in the photo have my back and they think that I am darling.
The Post I Was Hesitant to Publish goes like this:
We attended a party one day before the big church Christmas program in which I was to play the violin. As the entertainment for the party a violin professor with a PhD in violin performance played for us.
It’s not logical and it’s immature, but my confidence plummeted after hearing this violinist.
The next day I was moody and I had a bad rehearsal. How was I going to get my head back together so I could play that evening?
Then came the angels. They were people in my church congregation who stopped me in different settings throughout the day.
“What have you read lately?” one person asked, initiating a discussion that we began earlier this year. Our conversation turned to talents and gifts versus faith as we serve God. He said something like, “God uses people because of their faith, not necessarily their gifts.” This was something I needed to hear. He was the angel sent to remind me to have the faith to be an instrument, and not focus on proficiency alone.
All day people from the choir for whom I was playing the accompaniment were so kind and encouraging.These were the angels who lifted me over my insecurities.
Just before the performance, I ran into my friend who played Tevye in the production of Fiddler on the Roof earlier this year when I got to be the fiddler. We laughed over the adventures of that show. Here was the angel who got my mind off my troubles.
I asked Richard to sit near me while I played, just off to the side. His presence was angelic and helpful. My mom and Paige sat in the congregation and gave me another reason to play my best. Daniel, who was singing in the choir, always gives me a private encouragement before I play. It’s a tender gesture that always goes to my heart.
There were also probably unseen angels who helped me to play without shaking.
I cringe at this fear and weakness that I show when I have to play, but I have learned about faith, true friends, and angels through these experiences of working through it. Someday I’ll be able to get over myself.
The performance came and went. I played and it was just fine… not perfect, but sufficient. Looking back, how could it have been otherwise with such a team rooting for me?