Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Figuring Things Out

I just figured out that I haven't figured something out.
Stay with me here...

While thinking this morning through some interpersonal issues I've been having with a colleague and the unrest and sadness I feel over the financial failure that was my God-sized dream, I was thinking through my options:
1.  Resign from my gig to afford myself some peace
2.  Give up any aspiration I ever had of redoing houses in part to give back to the homeless community
3.  Run far, far away (San Diego has often been my preferred fantasy location of anonymity...)

Quite frankly, the options are, even in this quiet moment, all looking pretty good to me right about now.  I had all but settled on these solutions...well, at least number one...when I put on Laura Story's "Grace" as I drove home from dropping my son off at school.  (One of a very few school drop-offs I have left as our final high school graduation looms large.  Note to self:  That may be making up some of my current angst.)

Anyway, Laura Story began reaching me in that intimate, vulnerable way that only she can...
"My heart is so proud.
My mind is so unfocused.
I see the things You do through me as great things I have done."

No sooner had she sung these words than the "aha" came over me.
As epiphany's go, it's a doozy, and one that, even though it's come over me, I'm scared I won't be able to remedy.

I've never figured out my relationship with Christ in my old life.

Allow me to explain.

When I first introduced this blog in 2011, I was in the midst of a great change.
I was finally beginning to emerge from the pit after an epic battle with diagnosed major depression, generalized anxiety disorder, and Satan trying to extinguish my light.
I had lost my voice, thus (I thought at the time) losing my career.
I was at a crossroads.
Thankfully, I had finally decided life was worth living, albeit, acknowledging that a new life would have to form in the absence of any type of work I had ever known.

Slowly, things clicked...I began writing...the fog began to lift...I was using my unusable voice in a different way...I got into an exciting, new rhythm...
A new rhythm without music...who'd a thunk?
Most importantly, because I had been stripped bare, I had only Jesus to rely on, leaning into Him in every circumstance and for every decision.
(In actuality, this was the first time I realized that I only - ever - had Jesus to rely on.  Any reliance I had mistakenly thought was mine up to that point was simply, well, not.)
So walking with Jesus became my new normal.
It was like a honeymoon with my Savior, the one truest, greatest love of my life.
I experienced a peace such that I had never known.
Oh, how I long for those days.

Then came the house sale and the move...
The newer, bigger house...
The new community...
The return home and subsequent round-the-clock needs of a child in need...
The return of my voice and the subsequent return of a career...
The wondering where we will go now that our time in the new house is almost over...
So. Many. Things.
I was back in charge.  (Ha!  Big mistake...huge...)

But what I finally realized this morning is that I've never actively sought the walk with Jesus in my current life...because the habits formed long before in my previous career accompanied that return.  I had never met Jesus profoundly and utterly in my singing/teaching/coaching career.  And though I employ and try to espouse His ways of encouragement and wisdom in my teaching, the decisions in the classroom, the studio, the rehearsal space are "obviously mine."
Oh how foolish I forever am...
"I see the things You do through me as great things I have done."

I have no answer to this.
(Hey, cut me a break...I'm an hour into this realization! :)
But I know today and each day that my walk will only get "easier" by seeking Him.
By inviting Him in.
By knowing that this second chance song He's given me to sing is nothing...NOTHING...
without Him.
Without His grace.
Without His lead.

Oh, Jesus, please meet me on the road and the path forward.


  1. Beautiful Cynthia, so good to hear your voice again. Keep 'em coming!
    OX, Julie

    1. Thanks Julie. You are the sweetest and most supportive friend. I will continue to keep 'em coming as the Spirit moves me I guess. Love you.

  2. What a wonderfully exposed sharing of your journey. So glad to "hear your voice" again. T.

    1. Thanks so much, Theresa. Good to be heard. Love you big.