So low…

When I was six, I always sat in the same spot in the church where my dad was pastor: second row, left side. I sat there by myself, but my mom sat a bit further back. She kept an eye on me from behind; my dad could see me from the pulpit. I behaved. I didn’t mind going to church and I always loved to sing. During a revival meeting one night, the guest music director stopped in mid-hymn and said, “You people need to sing out now! This little boy here on the second row is just singin’ like a bird. I think I’ll ask him to sing a solo for us tomorrow night!” This was like being discovered in a soda shop and given a movie contract…at least to six-year-old me. The music director was probably joking, but after the service I told him I would sing a solo on the following evening. He said okay (hey, my father was the pastor; he couldn’t back out now).
By the next evening, though, I was petrified. The thought of getting up in front of the whole church and singing by myself had turned from a thrill to terror. I couldn’t go through with it, although I cried because I still wanted to do it. Six years and two churches later, I finally made my solo debut as a 12-year-old alto singing Away In a Manger. Since then I’ve probably done a thousand solos. But I missed that first opportunity.
Fortunately, God believes in second chances…and third ones and hundredth ones. Since we don’t always say yes the first time, He keeps asking, keeps pointing the way we should go. Sometimes it takes years before we finally give in. And some people never do. But as long as there’s breath in you, it is not too late. God has planted a seed in you—a talent, a gift—and He keeps saying, “Here’s your chance to use it.” It’s scary. I know.
But it can also start you singing your little heart out.