O Lord, You're beautiful येशु तुमि शुन्दर
Your face is all I see टोमी एमी खुजी
For when Your eyes are on this child झाखन तुमि अमी देखो
Your grace abounds to me. अनुग्रह एमी पी
I was to the point of exhaustion. My brain and body were sore with thinking and planning for the event. Being that I can play the guitar, though very poorly, it was suggested I lead a few songs. I had wrongly assumed I may be able to get internet on my laptop, so had neglected downloading any chord charts. Sad day. Now my only option was to play by ear. Yikes! Needing to practice and needing a break from copying Bengali words . I sat down with the guitar my friend was letting me borrow.
I quick tuned the guitar and played a few chords. How long had it been since I played? At least a month. How long had I been playing in total? Since August, maybe? And even then I was fairly inconsistent about practicing with all the things the school year brings. So all in all, maybe have been playing four months. Only a miracle was going to make this sound good.
Strumming out a few chords, I finally reverted to one of the only songs I knew by heart, "O Lord, you're beautiful." So nervous. Insecure, my voice was weak, shaky, and quiet as I sang. Could anyone hear me? I hoped not. However, realizing if I'm leading, I'm gonna have to be loud. If I'm going to play, I better own it.
"O Lord, you're beautiful. Your face is all I see..." Trying to hide my lack of confidence, I sing out a little more. Maybe if I pretend to be bold, no one will see my timidity.
Suddenly, a girl approaches and sits next to me. Though a little embarrassed to have an audience so close, I keep singing. The girls eyes light up. "Auntie!" she exclaims, " I know this song!"
"Yeah?" I reply, a little surprised and I stop playing.
She nods, with the Indian head tilt for yes.
I respond likewise, bobbing my head side to side. "How bout you sing with me then?"
She smiles. I smile and I start playing again. We sing, then I stop as I realize she is singing Bengali. This beautiful language, wafting through the rafters, carried on this lovely voice. I find myself compelled to sing with her, in her mother tongue. Though clumsy, we sing Bengali, guitar being strummed and voices being raised towards heaven.
That's when it hit me. This girl didn't care how long I'd been playing or how poorly. Heck, she didn't even care if I was singing in tune. All that mattered was that we were singing together. Me and her, and some how a bond was formed. The fact that she speaks little English and I speak little Bengali and the fact that my guitar playing sucks in comparison. All that mattered was I was there and I was willing.
It struck me, how often that's the way it is. In my insecurity and fears, I get so stuck on what I can bring. What gifts do I have? Am I using them correctly? And yes, at times those are important things to ask, but if that is the primary focus how often do I miss out on loving who is in front of me by actually being there with them? Insecurity is just another form of selfishness. We get so inward focused on what we do or do not have to offer, that we forget to offer the most basic thing: ourselves. However, when we begin to look beyond ourselves. When we choose to let go of what we can bring and even what we can not, somehow we begin to see beyond the insecurity. We see that no one cares if I can play guitar perfect. No one really cares that I'm socially awkward in India (in fact it's kind of expected). And though it would be nice if I could speak Bengali, it means more than anything else that I took the time to sit and be.
This is what I'm learning: the art of being. There is no special skills needed. All that is required is the present of presence and that is a better gift than all the talents in the world.
Your face is all I see टोमी एमी खुजी
For when Your eyes are on this child झाखन तुमि अमी देखो
Your grace abounds to me. अनुग्रह एमी पी
I was to the point of exhaustion. My brain and body were sore with thinking and planning for the event. Being that I can play the guitar, though very poorly, it was suggested I lead a few songs. I had wrongly assumed I may be able to get internet on my laptop, so had neglected downloading any chord charts. Sad day. Now my only option was to play by ear. Yikes! Needing to practice and needing a break from copying Bengali words . I sat down with the guitar my friend was letting me borrow.
I quick tuned the guitar and played a few chords. How long had it been since I played? At least a month. How long had I been playing in total? Since August, maybe? And even then I was fairly inconsistent about practicing with all the things the school year brings. So all in all, maybe have been playing four months. Only a miracle was going to make this sound good.
Strumming out a few chords, I finally reverted to one of the only songs I knew by heart, "O Lord, you're beautiful." So nervous. Insecure, my voice was weak, shaky, and quiet as I sang. Could anyone hear me? I hoped not. However, realizing if I'm leading, I'm gonna have to be loud. If I'm going to play, I better own it.
"O Lord, you're beautiful. Your face is all I see..." Trying to hide my lack of confidence, I sing out a little more. Maybe if I pretend to be bold, no one will see my timidity.
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| Why yes, we did paint fingernails this weekend! |
"Yeah?" I reply, a little surprised and I stop playing.
She nods, with the Indian head tilt for yes.
I respond likewise, bobbing my head side to side. "How bout you sing with me then?"
She smiles. I smile and I start playing again. We sing, then I stop as I realize she is singing Bengali. This beautiful language, wafting through the rafters, carried on this lovely voice. I find myself compelled to sing with her, in her mother tongue. Though clumsy, we sing Bengali, guitar being strummed and voices being raised towards heaven.
That's when it hit me. This girl didn't care how long I'd been playing or how poorly. Heck, she didn't even care if I was singing in tune. All that mattered was that we were singing together. Me and her, and some how a bond was formed. The fact that she speaks little English and I speak little Bengali and the fact that my guitar playing sucks in comparison. All that mattered was I was there and I was willing.
It struck me, how often that's the way it is. In my insecurity and fears, I get so stuck on what I can bring. What gifts do I have? Am I using them correctly? And yes, at times those are important things to ask, but if that is the primary focus how often do I miss out on loving who is in front of me by actually being there with them? Insecurity is just another form of selfishness. We get so inward focused on what we do or do not have to offer, that we forget to offer the most basic thing: ourselves. However, when we begin to look beyond ourselves. When we choose to let go of what we can bring and even what we can not, somehow we begin to see beyond the insecurity. We see that no one cares if I can play guitar perfect. No one really cares that I'm socially awkward in India (in fact it's kind of expected). And though it would be nice if I could speak Bengali, it means more than anything else that I took the time to sit and be.
This is what I'm learning: the art of being. There is no special skills needed. All that is required is the present of presence and that is a better gift than all the talents in the world.
I posted I needed to read today, on so many levels.:) Little kids are the best teachers!! Thanks for sharing, Kayla!
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