Projection from the stage

Here’s another great guest post from Lisa Taylor. I’m thankful for her story and perception of worship as a worship leader. I also love what she and her husband are doing now. 

Lisa Taylor has been involved in worship teams – leading and background vocals – for nearly 30 years.  She and her husband are currently building a ministry to burned out pastors and their spouses and hope to have a retreat facility completed in the near future.  You can read more about it at www.barnabashouseok.com, www.facebook.com/barnabashouseok, or follow them on Twitter @barnabashouseok.

I awoke to see my dashboard rushing toward me strangely bathed in green light.  Then pain – lots of it, for a long time.  Multiple broken ribs and thumb, sprained foot, lacerated liver, bruised spleen, critically low phosphorus and potassium.  In the midst of that no one noticed the concussion.

It took a few months for the noticeable injuries to heal, but the lingering migraines and violent nausea left me incapacitated for much longer.  In all that time I was unable to do one of the things I was created for – singing.  You see, singing requires deep breathing, which causes ribs to move.  Not a good idea.  For me, singing is the core of worship, and I couldn’t sit through a church service for a long time, much less stand on the stage.  This seriously hampered my worship.  Although I could tell myself that worship was more than music, the two were inextricably linked.  What did flourish in me was a critical spirit.

I think musicians are naturally self-critical.  By the time we reach adulthood we have been trained, graded, critiqued (in writing!), scored, auditioned, rejected, classified, segregated, and ranked.  We arrive on the worship stage with pretty strong feelings of the “right” and “wrong” way of doing things and where we stand on the talent scale.  So at its best, those that lead worship struggle to enter in themselves.  It is a constant balancing act of bringing our best gifts to the Lord and not letting it turn into a performance for an audience.  At its most toxic state it turns into an outward criticism.  We compare, compete, and project onto others the blame for our lack.  This isn’t exclusive to musicians, but from this side of the stage it seems to be much stronger.

Or maybe it’s just me.  When I catch myself (or let’s face it, when my kids tell me I am) being more critical than usual, that’s a pretty good sign I’ve got something else going on.  It’s time to step back and own something that’s happening inside.  Shut myself in with God and be honest.  I’m really good at lying to myself, denying, creating a diversion. Anything to avoid facing the ugly on the inside. I then become ugly on the outside.

Over a year and a half later, I still battle migraines, nausea, and add to that short-term memory loss and post-concussion ADD.  When I am onstage I have to hang on to a microphone stand because sometimes I forget, am caught up in worship, and close my eyes.  WHOA, spinny-head!  Not a good idea.  I have to have my words in front of me for songs I’ve sung for years.  I don’t know how long this will last, no one does.  But I have had some revelations about worship and myself.  I can’t say that I will never criticize others, myself, or lose sight of what worship really is.  I will say I’ve had to let go of a lot of things since the crash.  And that’s no accident.