Shy little me

The plastic chair trembles under me. I grip it with my little white knuckles. The teacher looks at me. She has a kind smile on her face as she patiently waits, but for some reason, I am unable to answer her. It’s a simple question. What color construction paper do you want? My mouth stays shut. I am frozen under her gaze. If I move my mouth and words come out, the earth will swallow me up. 

I was an awkwardly shy child. Seriously. I hated being on the spot and hated talking to strangers. Being painfully shy is a hard thing. It’s hard to function through life when you feel too afraid to talk to anyone. It’s hard to communicate when you’re afraid to speak. I found that for most of my early life, I faded into the background of all the talkative people in the world. If someone was energetic and outgoing, my thoughts and feelings would not be heard because I didn’t have the strength or energy to fight for air.

Which is why music became so important for me. I stumbled into my voice in middle school, but it wasn’t until high school that I found the courage to perform a solo. Although I was the most nervous I’d ever been, the applause and affirmation I received were amazing. As I continued to perform, I found that singing was a way for me to have undivided attention for the three to four minutes of my song. I could communicate with no interruptions, and I could do it beautifully and poetically.

When I discovered worship music, it was a double bonus. I could communicate my thoughts on my greatest belief to those who listened, and I was able to praise God. It was perfect. I felt a great peace every time I sang, like confirmation that I was in God’s will. Singing made me happy, and from the feedback I got from my church congregation, I gathered that I was blessing people in the process. I made the decision that I wanted to devote my life to worship. I decided to major in church music.

So what do you do when the thing that you decided to devote your life to no longer makes sense; when the direction you wanted to take your life in is suddenly fuzzy? Singing still makes me happy, but worship music often leaves me feeling empty. I don’t connect with worship songs like I used to. When I sing them, my mouth is moving and going through the motions, but my heart is just not feeling it.

Where do I go from here?


Why is worship or music important to your life? Or why is it unimportant?

5 Replies to “Shy little me”

  1. Great post, Jamie. I am enjoying not having to listen to worship music or prepare it. After doing it for 15 years and having it coupled with the comments of people, whether good or negative, I feel that it lost its connection point with me. Thankfully, I am rediscovering my love of music in general and the inward solace it brings to me. I am digging out old CD’s that I used to love before “dong the job of worship music” took me over. It has been a nice process.

  2. Jamie, thanks so much for visiting my blog — always fun to meet new people. I see from your posts that you are experiencing some confusion or disconnect right now, kind of a desert time. Keep looking to the Lord. I pray that He will bring the clarity you need. He is ever and always worthy of worship. I pray that He will show you the way He wants you to worship Him. Blessings to you!

    1. Thanks for visiting mine, Cheryl! Thanks for the encouragement. Writing is very therapeutic (as I think you know from what I read on your blog) and I hope it will bring healing as I continue this blog.

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