Look at the tomato…isn’t it sad? It can’t sing.
When I was younger, I entered a contest. Every year. It was a country music singing contest. I entered for several years and always made the final round, only to take 2nd place and not move on to state competition. Two years ago at 35, I entered the competition for Nashville Star (American Idol but country music…it’s where Miranda Lambert came from). I made it to Nashville. And no further.
I listened to everyone who told me I should be famous. I made CDs of my original music, took professional photographs and made a M*Sp*ce music page. I was happenin’ and stuff. I was a worship leader at my church and had so many compliments it was difficult to keep my feet on the ground. But I did. Why? Because I never made it past 2nd place. Even here in a local competition a few years ago I got 2nd. Again.
I played in a band (or 2), wrote lots of music and played my guitar until my fingers bled, to quote Bryan Adams. If you’re curious, here you can find my music, albeit very rudimentary and amateur. *NOTE: the server is a home computer so it might take more than one shot to get to the files. I promise you’ll be rewarded with complete mediocrity.
My point is that the desire to make music as that thing I do has always burned hot inside of me. So much so that watching CMT or award shows was painful because I was so certain I should be and COULD be doing that if only the stars aligned properly. But they never did. That aching? It still remains. Uselessly and irritatingly eating at my heart like some ridiculous child’s dream never to come true. I tried to make it into a passion for worship music and throw myself into that, thinking not only would it satisfy this longing but also possibly make me into the kind of person who could save her marriage.
Only it didn’t.
Once those things imploded, I was held to a higher standard and told I brought a bad spirit into the church by my behavior. I went from being a woman in trouble to a woman lost forever. Goodbye church support. Goodbye people who loved me for the worship I brought. It was really just a bad spirit, after all, now that they knew what I was really doing behind closed doors. I got heavy and old, useless to marketing reps and no longer of value to the Christian community for the purpose of worship music. I was heartbroken to not only lose my marriage but my entire belief system.
It’s been months since I really picked up a guitar or put any heart into singing. There used to be no separating me and music, and I don’t know what happened. Did I give up? Did I ever really think I’d be famous? No, not really. But I always believed that it might amount to something important in my life, and that the fire was placed there for a reason.
I just don’t know if I believe that anymore.
