During my music major college days, I performed countless concerts in symphonic bands and orchestras. And because the instrument I play is a common solo instrument, I had my fair share of spotlight moments. I can still see myself rubbing sweaty hands on my coal black skirt while counting measures, waiting for my time to play solo.
The nerves usually pushed my confidence right off the stage. Sometimes I would play okay, sometimes very well. Either way, when it was over, I would sit back in my chair and exhale in relief. As much as I enjoyed performing music, I couldn’t always make peace with my shaky nerves.
During finals week of my junior year, I was asked to sub for someone in the Tulsa Philharmonic. This was a huge opportunity for me, one not given to many college kids. I knew this, but still I said no. I explained to the powers that be because it was finals week, I just couldn’t afford the time away for practices and performances. But the truth was because I had zero confidence, I gave into the fear that said I could not possibly literally walk onto stage and perform with legit professionals.
In hindsight, I see how my lack of confidence brought a surplus of regret.
So when the time came for my senior recital – my hour long, play-all-by-myself-except-for-my-accompanying-pianist-on-the-big-toasty-stage recital – I cried every day, certain I did not have what it takes to get through it. After one particularly difficult lesson with my private teacher Ms. Ridilla, my defeated self slumped to the ground as I told her in a trembling voice,
“This will not end well.”
She sat down next to me, put her hand on my shoulder and said,
“Kristen, you’re a sure thing talent. No matter how you perform in your recital, your abilities and identity are without question.”
Instead of a pat little you’ll do fine! answer, she made me look my worst fear straight on and assured me that no matter what, my talent and identity were intact. Because let’s face it: You can practice anything – music, sports, writing, whatever – and still give a poor performance, no matter how uncharacteristic for the performer.
That following Tuesday night, I gave my recital. If I wasn’t playing, I was praying. And by the time I placed the music for the final piece, Saint-Saëns’ Sonata in D Major on my music stand, I felt the Lord whisper into my soul,
Rest your confidence in Me, not you. You’re a sure thing in Me.
And I played that baby like I’d written it myself. I felt confident because I had in me a power working beyond myself.
I’ve stepped out in confidence in other areas and fallen flat on my face. That’s not fun, but it’s not fatal. There is something mighty freeing about separating my performance from my identity, from knowing my worth doesn’t slide down with the bad reviews or fly skyward with the good ones. Win or lose, come what may, I am still fully me because of Him who stands with me and in me. When I remember this, I’m surprised at how my confidence grows.
Regardless of your performance results after playing that solo, writing that blog post, or speaking in that job interview, you are a sure thing in Christ.
When we take this to heart, it always ends well.
If you are sharing your own surprise confidence story today, here are some things to remember:
1. New to link-up’s or have questions? Read this first.
2. Since we all dig surprises, please surprise another writer by leaving a comment on her post *or* by giving her a facebook shout-out or tweet. Use the hashtag: #outoftheblue.
3. Be sure to include the out of the blue banner {see below} in your post or link back to Chasing Blue Skies so your readers can join in the fun. That way, we can all easily find each other.
Next week’s prompt: How did a goodbye surprise you by increasing your joy or make a difference in your life? I’m not just talking about goodbyes to harmful people, places, or things, but also goodbyes to good people, places, or things. At the time, the goodbye might have been easy or difficult. Either way, you can look back and see how God’s grace used the then goodbye for the now good.
“There is something mighty freeing about separating my performance from my identity, from knowing my worth doesn’t slide down with the bad reviews or fly skyward with the good ones. Win or lose, come what may, I am still fully me because of Him who stands with me and in me.” Yes, this.
Again and again. And more and more. This realization is what He has specifically for you to encourage, as a mother and a writer and a friend. Keep on preaching this truth, sweet friend.
Thank you, Amy. xo
What a beautiful post. I’m pinning it right now! I needed this reminder that our preformance and identity are separate. Even as a mother, sometimes I find it easy to base my value on how well I feel I’m mothering. There’s much more to it, though! And I think remembering where my real value comes from helps me be a much better parent anyway. Best to you!
Oh yes, Erica. My kids have a string of good choices? I’m a great mama. My kids have a string of bad ones? I’m a bad mama. I like what Lysa Terkeurst says, which was something along the lines of “Don’t take too much credit for their good days and too much credit for their bad days.” Easy to do though, isn’t it?
As always Kristen, thank you for sharing your heart. Beautiful as always. I’m guilty of basing my worth on the wrong things at times, including performance, so I too appreciate this reminder. Blessings to you.
Kristen,
Having always been a “performer” myself (my area was dance) it was hard to separate your performance from your identity. God has helped to teach me what you said so beautifully…that the two are NOT the same. Sometimes I’ve fallen on my face figuratively and sometimes literally, but God has always been there to remind me, no matter what, I am his. Thanks for sharing!!
Blessings,
Bev