My Fight Song
Like a small boat On the ocean Sending big waves Into motion Like how a single word Can make a heart open I might only have one match But I can make an explosion
Rachel Platten, Fight Song
The next word on my When Words Wane list brings us to integrity. Dictionary.com defines integrity as the quality of being honest and having strong moral principles; moral uprightness. It's also known as the state of being whole and undivided.
I consider myself to be a person of integrity. I certainly value it in others, and myself. The word wouldn't have made it onto my values list unless I thought it was important.
I know what it means to be honest and to have strong moral principles. I try to live my life that way to the best of my ability. The state of being whole and undivided seems a bit trickier and more elusive to me. I feel divided many times between what I should feel and what I actually feel, and then wrestling back and forth between the two. That's where the fighting the good fight for faith becomes most evident for me.
Aint' no mountain high enough.
How can I fight effectively when I feel incomplete?
How can I muster the strength to even get my fists in fighting position when I'm feeling less than?
I have the privilege of serving on our church's worship team. I love to sing, and I think I'm a pretty decent vocalist. I don't read music, though, and I don't have a huge vocal range. I sing what I can sing well enough.
I jotted some notes down back in January of this year after a singing experience I had. Honestly, I go through this just about every time I'm scheduled to serve on the team and have an opportunity to sing on stage.
Thinking back to this particular Sunday, I had practiced and warmed up as I often do the week leading up to singing. I sing on the daily, but when it's time for me to do so on stage, it requires just a bit more intention and purpose as I practice and prepare for it.
Ain't no valley low enough.
Sunday is here, and leading the congregation in praise and worship through song has come and gone. Usually, it hits me as soon as I step off the stage. Many times, though, the thoughts come rushing in as I'm on stage in the act of singing. The thoughts go a little something like this:
Man, I really wanted to hit those notes confidently. I SO wanted to sing that solo part on the bridge just right. Messed up on the timing so much on one verse I completely missed my cue and didn't sing. I let the team down. I let myself down. I prayed that I wouldn't be a distraction, and I ended up doing the very thing I didn't want to do.
What usually happens hours, days, or sometimes even weeks later took place in an instant this particular Sunday in January. I was reminded of a few very important truths, which are all predicated on the most important truth: God loves me. I know, we're hopefully hearing that often. But are we really hearing it, and receiving that truth? That truth above all others fills me with such confidence. It sets me free. It sets me free from the prison of perfectionism. Missing my cue or not hitting that high note do not disqualify me from being in God's presence. My imperfections do not make me unworthy of his love, grace, and mercy. I am welcome, just as I am. And by the way, I still worshiped - missed cue, messed up timing, and all.
He still loves me.
I don't have to sing perfectly to be worthy of approval in my Heavenly Father's kingdom. My singing perfectly (or doing anything else perfectly, for that matter) doesn't win me my approval, so the lack of perfection doesn't make me lose it. That's why the good news of the gospel is so good, and speaks truth to me every day, not just on Easter Sunday. Jesus lived a perfect life, then died for me. His perfection means I don't have to be. That's really good news.
Pondering that truth, and wrestling with it over and over again has been one of the biggest weapons in my fight for faith. Removing the shackles of perfectionism and people-pleasing have allowed me to run hard and fast, and to fight the good fight towards faith.
So I guess that's what wholeness is starting to look like for me as a recovering perfectionist and people-pleaser. Learning about harmony and melody has helped me grow as a vocalist, and it's also helped me in life. The playing of my single notes may be musically satisfying as I try to take center stage, but forming a pleasing and consistent whole won't ever happen without the harmony. It's the combination of the two that brings wholeness.
His harmony makes my melody possible.
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.
2 Timothy 4:7