In Over My Head

Have you ever had that "what have I done" feeling?  I'm assuming the answer is yes and that at some point in your life, be it an embarrassing, scary or surreal moment, you've asked yourself that very question.  I have had several of those moments over the years but one of my favorite stories to tell is the story of the "Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Audition."

I moved to Chicago at the age of 26 to pursue my life-long dream of being an actress.  I was going to make my mark on the Windy City's stage...or at least, that was the plan.  After getting settled in, finding a job and making some new friends (a.k.a. stalling), I decided that if I was going to get famous, I'd better start auditioning for roles.  After searching through an online publication, I located an open call audition in the city.  It wasn't exactly my cup of tea (some sort of sci-fi improv thing) but I figured beggars can't be choosers, so I made plans to be there. 

The trip into the city was both exciting and nerve-racking.  I found the location with relative ease, took a deep breath, and entered the building.  As is tradition, I immediately began checking out my competition.  It was an eclectic mix but they weren't altogether unfriendly.  I started up a few conversations before it was time for auditions to begin.

I can't quite recall if they had us do individual auditions or not.  I do remember learning a few stage combat techniques with the group and then it was time for the dreaded improv games.  I say dreaded because although I consider myself a decent actress, I recognize that I have a definite weak point.  That weak point: improv.  I love watching it and admire those who can pull it off successfully but as for being an active participant, no thank you.  I know what you're thinking.  "Then why did you go to this audition?"  The short answer is, I don't know.  But there I was, wishing I was anywhere else in the world.  The game we were playing was a familiar one.  We sat in a circle in which one person started a story (two lines or so) and the story grew as each participant added to the plot.  Being the planner that I am, I kept trying to think ahead to when it was my turn - but that's the thing with improv, there's no planning...just improvising. 

Once again, I can't quite recall what I said when it came time for my input but I do remember (like it was yesterday) the feeling of utter mortification.  Whatever I said, I knew it was beyond stupid and I would've given my right arm for the ground to have opened up and swallowed me whole.

It didn't.

So, I suffered through the rest of the audition and then left like someone fleeing the scene of a crime.  As I drove back to my suburb, all I could think was how awful I did and how I hoped I never had to experience anything like that ever again in my life.  Unfortunately, just a few weeks later, I had a similar humiliating experience at a musical audition for Buddy Holly: The Musical.  Let's just say I will never sing Chantilly Lace again!

So yes, I know all-too-well that feeling of being in over your head.  In fact, I'm feeling it today in regards to my latest endeavor to write a book and become a professional public speaker.  I've been working on my book proposal over the last few days - something I know absolutely nothing about - so that alone has been a little like jumping in the deep end.  But what really made me feel like I was drowning was when my business cards came in the mail two days ago.  I don't know why, but when I looked at those business cards it hit me.  I don't know what I'm doing.  This is a joke.  I'M a joke.

I wonder if that's how Noah felt.  Surely at some point in his busy ark-building schedule he took a step back, looked at the enormous boat in his front yard and said, "what on God's green earth am I doing?!!!!"  Okay, maybe he didn't.  Maybe he had stronger faith than me.  But he certainly had cause to feel a little out of his element.

Then there was Abraham who was asked to lead his only son Isaac to a sacrificial death.  Surely he had second thoughts on that long trip up the mountain.

I know in the Bible and even today the list goes on and on of ordinary people that God asks to do extraordinary things.  God works like that doesn't he?  He calls us to things that are so beyond our finite, human capabilities and leaves us with no choice but to rely on Him...and trust Him.  As you know from my previous blog, that is a struggle for me sometimes. 

What makes this scenario different for me is the confidence I have in my calling.  There is not an ounce of me that doubts this is where God wants me and what He wants me doing.  I don't know how it will end up (or what "embarrassments" I may face along the way) but I feel sure that if God has called me on this journey, then He will be faithful to make clear a path and guide me along the way.

In God We Trust?

I remember the simple analogy my youth pastor once used to explain faith.

As the students did at every youth event, we were sitting in folding chairs that Sunday.  Shayne, the youth pastor, pointed out that all of the chairs were doing a fine job of holding us - just as we anticipated they would.  Not one of us came in that day and inspected our chairs to insure stability or reliability.  We simply trusted that the chairs would support us as they had for so many meetings prior.

That's faith.  Faith that some would call blind.  Simply believing - without requiring a background check, certificate of authenticity or ten-point inspection first.

I was reminded of this type of belief again this morning as I read from Jeremiah 17.  Verses 7 and 8 read, "But blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord, whose confidence is in him.  He will be like a tree planted by the water that sends out its roots by the stream.  It does not fear when heat comes; its leaves are always green.  It has no worries in a year of drought and never fails to bear fruit."

The first verse especially caught my attention.  I want to trust in the Lord and I do... sometimes.  But lately, more often than not it seems, I struggle with this very thing.

Why?  Because I want to see His plan first.  I want to see a roadmap of my future that's clearly marked: "NEXT STOP: Happyville" (That's the town right down the road from Wedded Blissburg in Financial Stability County.  The population consists of couples with white picket fences, 2.5 children and vacation houses on the beach.  I've gotten carried away again, haven't I?)

Then, once I snap out of my unrealistic daydream, I realize something.  That's NOT trust.  No trust is required on the journey that's perfectly mapped out and laid in front of you.

Sure, God is doing an amazing work in my life and sure, He has plans for me beyond what I can even imagine, but He knows (and I know) that if He spelled it all out for me, I would cease to rely on Him and seek His will.

So if I know all this, why is trusting Him so difficult sometimes?  I think I've figured that one out too.

If you listen to Air1 Radio then you've probably heard the soundbite of Jason Gray explaining his inspiration for the song, "Remind Me Who I Am."  He says that sin is often the result of forgetting who we are.  Well, if that's the case, then I contend that a lack of faith is the direct result of forgetting who God is.

It's analogy time again.

A couple of days ago my car battery died and my brother-in-law had to jump start my van.  Jumper cables always make me nervous, probably because I've never really learned to use them properly and I fear being electrocuted or blown up if I get the colors or order wrong.  With the cables in Robert's capable hands, however, I felt completely at ease and had 100% confidence that he knew what he was doing and would get the job done.  I had faith in Robert because of who he is - an intelligent, capable and trustworthy person.

If I can put that much confidence in a man, why not the Creator of the universe?!  Clearly it is because I have forgotten who He is, what He is capable of and even what He has already done in my life.

Referring back to the passage in Jeremiah, I long to be that strong tree that does not fear and has no worries in a year of drought.  The key for me (and for you) is trust and confidence in God - not in ourselves or what we can see - but in our more-than-capable Savior.