I grew up playing baseball. And now that i’m 40, it’s ok for me to safely admit that I was pretty good. I only played on 1 good team. My senior year of high school, we won our state championship in Mississippi. Till that point, I was always on a losing team. I remember what it felt like to expect to lose. The other team, the winning team, had swagger and confidence. They usually had nicer uniforms and gear. They were bigger. Their dads yelled louder. The moms brought better snacks in nice coolers. You get the point.
I knew what it felt like to lose. I didn’t like it, but I didn’t know any different. By the time I was on that winning team in high school, my heart had left baseball and I didn’t care that much. I was glad it was over. I was ready to move to Nashville.
Since then, I have done some winning. I have had success. I had a friend just this week remind me of some of my success. What I have begun to notice more clearly in the past few weeks is that my success has been easy. I haven’t put myself in a position to fail. Most of the time, I just had to say yes. I took very calculated risks, which, I’m not sure is a risk at all. I certainly didn’t put myself in a position to be told no. I stayed far away from those people. Now that I see that, I am beginning to understand something I have never understood about myself. I think I’m really really afraid of rejection and failure. I don’t want to tell you what I really want to do, in case it doesn’t happen. I don’t want to knock on the door of the person I really want to work with, because they may slam it in my face. I have not been bold or courageous. I have walked through doors that were opened for me. Which does and will happen from time to time. But I am learning, through trial and conversation, that if I want something more, I have to start doing some knocking.
In Matthew, we read about how when Jesus called his disciples, those who were fishing, “dropped their nets and followed him”. This has always been one my favorite visuals. Working there on the shore, mending and cleaning. Jesus comes along. “Follow me”. Ok. Drop nets. Follow. Dang.
If God is calling me into the music industry. Not just to write songs, but to be in relationships and to be involved and intertwined in the world that exists there, then I will have to leave behind some of the comfort I currently know. I will have to take some risks and walk into some rooms that I’m afraid to walk into. I think this is where God is calling me. I think I will go. I will be afraid, but that’s ok. Let’s see what happens when I drop my net and follow.
rob
