She devoted no less than half her life, time, resources, education to becoming a worship leader. Hours of practice, voice lessons, and conferences and studying, and a degree in music. Listening, taking notes, writing, reviewing, again and again. Saying yes to opportunities when they arose. Women’s retreats, women’s groups. Finding the courage to seek out more opportunities. Looking for places to belong.
And in one conversation her voice was taken.
I should have asked more questions, taken more time to pray and contemplate what I was doing. I believed (falsely) that because someone “said so” that I needed to do what I was told.
Because I thought I needed to ask permission and follow the rules even when they went against everything I believed in. I gave my power away. I settled for rules and shoved it all into a box that was ill-fitting, fit myself into a corset that wasn’t made for me. I forgot about free will and choice and agency and using my mind and trusting the Voice within to guide me.
The problem is I never stopped believing in my calling. I just gave up, with the calling still burning inside me.
I tried to pretend that I was okay with it and even made stories up to convince myself that was the way it was going to be. I figured out a way to tell a new story, one that didn’t include music but I didn’t believe it at all. I was numb.
After a couple of years of trying to put out the fire, it became relentless, burning within me. How could I NOT do the one thing I knew I was born to do? What made me come alive, what filled my soul and brought joy to my soul, and healing to others?
It’s no wonder I became a shell of a person. I had lost my purpose and it wasn’t coming back.
Again and again, I asked. And every time the gatekeepers said “no.”
They said “no” to being who I was created to be.
They said “no” to allowing me to be myself.
They said “no” to the gifts I had to offer.
They said “you’re too much.”
They said “you’re not enough.”
They said “there’s nothing you can do to participate”.
They said my dreams needed to die.
Everything I had laid bare and had been vulnerable about was used against me.
Well, they succeeded — my soul was dead.
It’s enough to make a girl go mad.
After four years I said enough; I took my voice back and I walked away.