When I was a child I wanted to be a lot of different things when I grew up: karate master, animator at Disney/Warner Brothers and an orchestra conductor. Although I am still flirting with the Disney dream, I have since released the desire to become karate master and orchestra conductor. But a few weeks ago God reminded me of one of those dreams via conversation with my mother.
I was blessed with the opportunity to take my mother to see Handels Messiah performed by the Virginia Symphony Orchestra at Regent University the week before Christmas. As the musicians were seated, the conductor walked onto the stage. My mother remarked, “Bran, remember when you wanted to do that?” I did remember. This was during the time when I would listen to classical music on our local public radio station. I’d spend hours tinkering with our piano, trying to play the piano portions of symphonies, concertos and sonatas by ear. I loved the way the music swelled and how certain instruments played in a particular manner would evoke different human emotions. And who controlled it all? The conductor! I thought that had to be the best job ever for a music lover!
Unfortunately my love for the written word overshadowed my love of classical music so my focus shifted, my dream of being an orchestra conductor pushed to the side. In recent years I think about my conductor dream as well as others, a bit remorseful about the time wasted pursuing something that wouldn’t come to fruition. I have spent more than few nights beating myself up about things that didn’t come to pass.
But that night as I watched the female conductor, the first I’d witnessed live, I remembered how as a child I pointed out to my mom that I didn’t see a lot of women in that field. I thought about how hard the road must be and considered it a great accomplishment to witness this woman work in person.
I must admit I became a bit misty thinking of those “broken” dreams. In that moment of regret, I felt like God whispered to me, “Brandy, you ARE living your dream.” I was slightly confused. Although I was enjoying a sweet moment with my mother, all I could see in my mind were memories of unsuccessful attempts to accomplish something. Those memories faded into images of the years I sang with the choir and worship team in the church where I grew up. Then I began to see the worship team I’m privileged to serve with now.
As the realization hit me, so did the tears. As a kid the context I knew was classical music. I noticed the importance of tone, mood and instrument selection. I payed attention to how music was used in movies to evoke a certain mood that complimented what was being communicated in words or via visual storytelling. Surely there wasn’t any connection to leading worship.
Surely there is and I was reminded of it that night. Those same lessons I learned as a child have helped in preparing me for ministry as a worship leader, a role I’ve stumbled into more than once. In that moment I was reminded that God knows the end from the beginning. There are times He chooses to lay things out in a very specific manner and other times it’s all about trusting Him to connect the dots. Things may not seem to make sense to us, meaning they can’t always be neatly packaged or compartmentalized but He knows the significance of what we experience in life and knows the timing in which its’ purpose will be revealed to us.
Do you have any dreams you’ve given up on or are holding onto? Ever have a dream fulfilled in a vastly different way than you originally dreamed it? Share in the comments below. You’re definitely not alone.
For the month of January I will attempt to trudge my way through 31 days of posting via Jeff Goins’ 500 Words Writing Challenge. Won’t you join me?