Do You Ever Feel Like An Appendix?

Not an eye. Or an ear. But an appendix.

Another worship service ends, and a long line forms as people wait patiently to welcome the new worshipers who just stood in front of the church to officiate their membership.

A number of reasons might logically explain why I didn't join in line to greet the new faces:

I'm in the band and need to prepare my chord charts for round two. I need to run to the bathroom before the next service starts. I need to hurry and say hi to one of my friends before she picks up her daughter from the childrens' department...

All those reasons are usually true.

But there is another reason that probably contains even more truth:

Dear Life

Have you ever wanted to tell Life exactly what you think when it seems to turn against you?

Dear Life,

I'm not gonna lie:
You have been 'something else' lately.
It isn't like knowing you has ever been perfect.
Our relationship has had its ups and downs,
as they all do,
and you have never been easy.
You're the most high-maintenance friend
I've ever known.
But I used to think
you had some good qualities too,
that you weren't all bad.
You would surprise me with
sweet moments to remind me of your goodness---
glasses of lemonade on a summer picnic table,
running carefree on my grandparents' farm,
the stillness of a darkened night
dotted with stars.
I used to believe in first kisses
and dreams coming true.

If You Want It, Get Serious

A sweet girl in her late twenties
approached me in tears;
her attempts to play piano
with her church band
had been a "hot mess,"
as she termed it.

She came to me, a music teacher, in hopes of encouragement, not even sure if she should continue pursuing her musical goals. She was very emotional, upset about her stumbles, doubted that her church band even wanted her, or questioned if she had misunderstood her purpose in the first place. Her emotional needs were the first concern. I told her I understood, because I've had those moments when my fingers just slipped all over the keys, and a performance I had felt great about simply fell flat. I reminded her she'd just driven in from out-of-town, not feeling well, then was handed a bunch of new music and introduced to new musicians she had never played with. "The next practice might not be so bad," I tried to encourage her. "If they're playing with new musicians, it might just take a few weeks to get in sync with each other." 

What Would You Stop Doing?

Original Question Posted

by Danielle LaPorte: 

"The Burning Question Series:" 

WHAT WOULD YOU STOP DOING?

http://www.daniellelaporte.com/the-burning-question-series/

"What would I stop doing?" 


I want to stop doubting my intuitions. 
I haven't always believed them, but the majority of the time, their subtle pricks of conscience have been spot-on. 


I want to stop worrying how other people feel about my choices, my boundaries, my instincts. If I am being thoughtful, prayerful, and feel I am doing what I need to be doing, I want to trust myself, regardless of whether the people around me do or not.


I want to grasp that I don't have to apologize for thinking of myself. We are always taught to think of others. Like a lot of women, I feel like I often gravitate towards thinking of others at the expense of my own self, until I feel depleted. I easily forget that one of my first jobs is to take care of me.


What about you? What would you stop doing and why? 
Visit http://www.daniellelaporte.com/the-burning-question-series/

Please answer here in the comments, or you can track back to Danielle's page, or link me to your answer on your own blog!

One-Line Prayers

What is that one
bare-boned prayer
you pray
when you feel
you don't have a prayer left?
When you resign yourself to the fact
that healing isn't coming,
relationships won't be restored,
dreams will never actualize,
rescue won't arrive?

When you have no words left,
what is that one remaining,
last-ditch prayer you pray?

Trying To Believe

I 

I didn't want to write a poem where the problem is solved and peace is found by the last stanza, because sometimes life isn't like that. Sometimes people struggle and hurt for such a long time before finding relief. I wanted to write a poem for people who have tried and hoped, but still haven't been rescued:


I can't seem to pray.
I have no words to say.
I've lost hope that you might answer me.

The water closes in,
but I'm too worn out to swim.
I can't find strength to face another day.

True Compliments Needed

Post-performance week.
I love this time.

This is the week when students walk through my door after performing at Saturday's recital and, as their teacher, I get to celebrate their accomplishments or relate to their struggles.

I get to tell the girl who held the audience spellbound that her performance was wonderful. And, if she is a self-critical perfectionist, remind her that it would have still been wonderful, had it not turned out perfectly.