This is what I look like on Sunday morning before I have to play the piano for church. No kidding. Today, I wish I had some Pepto Bismal with me, because I had to run to the bathroom during the talks because of the stress-induced cramping. I was fine, once it was all over. Today the opening song was, "Come listen to a Prophet's voice". I didn't know how fast I played it until Alan mentioned that the chorister's hands turned into a fan while I was playing. He only mentioned that so that I would remember to slow down on the rest of the songs.

During the Sacrament, I had to keep playing because they still hadn't finished breaking up the bread. How horrible is that??? Who wants to play a solo impromptu? I had to play the hymn about 4 times over until they finished. My fingers were slipping on the keys, and I could feel myself breathing really hard. With that being said, I know that this calling is "good" for me. I'm learning. I'm growing. I'm changing. I've got a new-found respect for every ward pianist in the church. I haven't even figured out how in the world I'm going to learn the organ. I just need to get through playing the piano. Learning the organ seems just about as possible as if I decided to go and run a marathon next week.

This past year I have experienced some concentrated lessons in faith, overcoming fear and allowing myself to change. At this point, I feel like I have failed miserably at this. I guess that's why the Lord keeps giving me opportunities to grow in these areas. The longer I resist, the longer and more painful the process will be. Somehow, I have to figure out a way to move from dread to anticipation. From hate to love. From fear to courage.