“Tears will fall, let them. Like the rain that waters the earth causing new things to grow, so the heart must shed it’s pain somehow.” The words came muffled through the closed door as I sat mortified on the small tile floor of the motel bathroom.
“Did you hear that note? I hate myself! I worked for months on that one note and I blew it like an idiot.” I yelled back.
My poor voice teacher didn’t deserve the drama I was dishing out, but I couldn’t reign myself in.
I was crushed and that flurry of emotions was too much for me to bear. No matter what she tried to say I couldn’t believe her, past the hollow hurt resonating inside. Finally overcome by the shame that I had made everyone concerned about me, I swallowed my pride and opened the door and faced my teacher.
“You’re right it’s not the end of the world,” I said through tears that she hugged away with her extra absorbent Star Trek over-sized tee shirt.”
Miraculously through allowing her to hug me, the pain eased away. Even though my voice cracked on the most important note, right now it didn't sting as much. Although I faced the crash and burn of my dream, losing the chance to earn 1st Place, in Female Vocal Solo, at Nationals. Still, it wasn't such a heartbreak after all.
On reflection, I realized as I waited backstage in the purple and blue shadows with the MC giving me instructions about the microphone, that I was nervous. This could have been used to my advantage if I could’ve just kept my head. I watched from the side, as the girl on stage, in red sequins and tap shoes took a bow as the song ended. Applause filled the auditorium as the dancer pranced from the stage.
“Next up is the female vocal soloist, Dianne Tullis singing “I’m so Hurt,” The MC crooned.
I walked out confidently onto the stage in black high heels that matched my black velvet cocktail dress. The music track began and so did my voice, “I’m so hurt, to think that you would lie to me…” I was doing all the actions and voice inflections I practiced until the last note…but it came out wrong!!! My nerves had overcome me.
I acted as if the note was exactly how I had planned, and bowed as if I was a professional. The real fourteen-year-old girl underneath false eyelashes and red painted lips felt numb. It was when I saw the worried look in my mother’s eyes, that I knew my mistake was obvious. When the message of failure reached my head I began to feel anger, and a desire to rip every hair out of my head. Finally, when we got back to the hotel, I let out the sorrow and shame.
Thankfully the hug that followed my break down, taught me a treasured lesson. Even when I mess up on something I really love to do. When the lights are blazing down and I am dressed in my finest but I fail to hit the mark. In those horrible moments of self-criticism, love can redeem me.
So if you have messed up lately, and I am talking, a real doozy. Please know this, even if you don’t have an amazing voice teacher who will share poetry through the closed and locked motel bathroom door as you throw a self-debasing tantrum, you are not alone.
The God who created you in your mother’s womb. The God who knew all the days of your life before you took your first breath. The God who gave his only Son to die for your sins, this God cares for your every heart break. He says,“Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest for your souls.” Like a big hug from an experienced teacher his peace dries the tears and brings the courage back.
After my voice cracked, I decided to try again. The following year at the competition I won the 1st place trophy for Female Vocal Solo with, “Papa Can You Hear Me.” But as I waited back stage in the purple and blue shadows with the MC giving me instructions about the microphone, I felt confident this time. I knew that no matter what, my teacher believed in me. She was there to encourage me, and with such confidence the notes just soared.
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