Homeschool was my first introduction to learning.
My Mom would teach me everything, and I would argue with her incessantly. Eventually, the strain was too much for her to hold, and she also wanted me to have more social interaction with kids my age. A Christian private school was the answer, and at the end of 1st grade I was blended into the class. It was not a bad school, but I’ll never forget the 20 odd stares of strangers I had never met before piercing my skin.
Shrinking back I hid.
My first interaction was at lunch with a kid in the grade above me, and he asked me,
“Hey, Kid! What’s your name?”
Nothing particularly heinous about his words, but the demeanor, the bravado, and the hostile energy were things I was not familiar with. For some reason I felt like I needed to prove like there was a reason why I was there, and I didn’t have a good one. I was stuck until one of my classmates spoke up for me,
“He’s the new kid. His name is Stephen.”
“Can he talk?”
“Yah, he can talk.”
Oh no! This meant I needed to say something, “Hi.” is what I wrenched, hurriedly and painfully from my heart as it pumped blood to my head that flooded my cheeks. Heat filled my body, and I decided I didn’t belong.
Earlier that day my brother had promised me that he would “take care” of anyone that bothered me. When I saw him after school he asked me how my first day was, and if anyone had given me trouble. At first I said, “yah this one guy,” thinking back to the lunchroom talk where I had felt assaulted by someone asking my name, but immediately identified that he really didn’t mean any harm to me. Contemplating in my mind I told my brother, “…well, I guess he didn’t really mean anything…”
That was the end of it, but even though no terrible acts were executed, there was still discord within me. The “out of place-ness” never really left me as I grew, and I still hold it.
Throughout the Bible, we’re taught that we are sojourners, aliens, exiles here on earth waiting for heaven, and I took that to heart. Unfortunately, it’s easy to forget that we are part of a family in God’s house, so from homeschool, to private school, to public school, to college, and into the working world I carried with me the orphan heart that sought to reject everyone before they could realize that I didn’t quite belong.
I’m four days deep into my team’s tour of the east coast, but the 48 hours before we left I was hit with this sense that I really shouldn’t join the team, this whole worship track thing was juvenile, and that I had more important things to do. Everything inside me felt those swift feet wanting to run again, to reject before being rejected, but instead I said “Yes,” and held out my hands asking, “and?…”
In worship track we’ve worked on dynamics for creating spaces and atmospheres, things that resemble soundscapes, and one of the concepts we’ve adopted is the posture we hold towards each of our teammates. We say, “Yes,” affirming their musical idea, and then we ask, “and?” beckoning what is next. To say “No” during a session would be to stop the music, disrupt synergy, and to lose momentum, not to mention reject a teammate.
Leading worship with a tight knit group of people that I don’t always understand/like/get/feel apart of, and joining in with believers of many different denominations that I don’t always understand/like/get/feel a kin to has challenged my ability to opt in to situations. For the past 3 years I’ve been trying to let go of disqualifying myself before I’ve even begun, and also let go of the pride of “doing it on my own,” an American motto if ever there was one.
Trusting God that I’m okay has been difficult to say the least.
Ephesians 2:19 is a verse that helps to overcome that rejection, “So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints, and are of God’s household,” Ephesians 2:19
Whether I like it or not, I’m family with those people who I might consider weird, those people who seem immature, those people who aren’t as driven as me, those people who don’t see things as I do, and not only that, it’s my job to beckon them to the table of God’s household, accepting them in the fullness of God’s glory.
However, I first need to take up and fight for my own place at the table, by accepting myself, and by accepting what God has already done.
I’m no longer a stranger,
I belong,
and so do you if you will just say, “Yes, and?”
