The Living Room Serenade & An Audience of One

It’s been a little quiet for me in “blog world.” It’s been a time of reflection for me…a time of soaking everything in and figuring things out. And somehow I’m trying to make since of doors beginning to open when they have been shut for so long.

I thought I was ready for this. But as the doors start to open and I hear the voice saying, “Go on, you were made for this.” I find myself more like the girl I used to know way back in the day.

The first time I ever sang in front of my mom and stepdad I was in the living room, around the age of seventeen, and horrible. When mom asked me to sing for them I immediately began to sweat. Being the obedient child that I was, I told her that I would.

I put the cassette tape in. (It was probably Sandi Patti or something like that. What good Christian girl didn’t have a Sandi Patti tape?)

Pushed play on my boom box and then I turned around so I wouldn’t have to look at them. I opened my mouth and sang my little heart out while they stared at each other…and my backside.

Mom told me later that Gary would whisper, “That’s not her.” While mom would and say, “Yes, it is. That’s her.”

They’re my parents, regardless of how horrible it was or wasn’t, they had to love me. It’s a parental requirement.

It was three minutes of pure musical torture for me. I turned around. Wiped the sweat off my palms, picked up my boom box and went into my room.

I can’t remember what I sang for them. I can’t tell you how it made them feel or if they cringed with every nervous note because I couldn’t look at them. They were too close for my comfort. All I know is what they heard from my living room serenade was a weak, wobbly version of a girl who hadn’t really found her sound yet.

At 34, I have finally found my sound, my voice, and I know who I really am in Christ. I’m the least likely to be used by God, but all I know is that He called me when I was a timid youth and His calling gave me a purpose.

I still want to turn around sometimes, I still want to hide so I can’t see whether or not people are moved to tears or sticking their fingers in their ears. I don’t long for the spotlight or for applause. I just want to please an audience of One, my first love, and perfect Abba Father.