1. You look great in your dress because you haven't eaten anything but soup for the previous 48 hours.
2. You are prescribed steroids, which create feelings of euphoria and super human strength right before you walk on stage.
3. Everyone's, including your own, expectations are lowered.
4. You don't care if anyone shows up, but are then extra appreciative of the people that actually do.
5. You have a legitimate reason to stay in bed all day before and after.
6. You burst into tears when it's over, which makes everyone sentimental. You don't feel the need to tell them that it's due to the mood fluctuations caused by the 'roids and not the overwhelming feeling of gratitude and relief everyone thinks is the cause.
7. Most importantly, you know that the only way you'll be able to make it through the evening is completely by the grace and sustenance of God. Therefore, the success of the evening is due wholly to His mercy, love, and care.
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In all seriousness, this past week (and really, this entire semester) has been a time of great deepening. I've been experiencing pretty serious anxiety about the event for several weeks, mostly in the form of dreams. [My most interesting one (that I may or may not send into the International Association for the Study of Dreams) involved performing in an empty shark tank and sharing the stage with a large komodo dragon.] Anxiety is a common struggle in my family; we are no strangers to tension headaches, stomachaches, and dreams due to over-indulged anxiety. For years I've battled ungodly anxiety, seeking psychological, medical, and spiritual aid. As I grow in my understanding of the body and nutrition, my mind and its tendencies, and patterns of behavior I can usually cut the spells short. However, the most helpful "remedies" I've discovered are prayer and Scripture memory and quotation. Really, these things are best if started
before the anxiety sets in. If my mind is equipped to face the enemy, I'll deal with the fight better than grasping for aid in the midst of battle (and that, folks, is as far as my war/sports/male-type analogies reach).
When I was reaching the height of anxiety earlier this week--Monday or Tuesday--I jumped into Scripture in desperate need of comfort and reassurance. I had a bookmark in Isaiah 45, so I started reading there. Eventually, my eyes (and soul) rested in chapter 46, verses 3 and 4. They are:
Listen to Me, you descendants of Jacob, all the remnant of the people of Israel,you whom I have upheld since your birth, and have carried since you were born.Even to your old age and gray hairs I am He, I am He Who will sustain you.I have made you and I will carry you;I will sustain you and I will rescue you.
I found such encouragement in these verses. I don't want to (and probably couldn't) begin a discussion on "name it, claim it" theology; regardless, the Lord reminded me of His creation and care of me, one of His remnant. It quickly became unattractive to worry about my recital. I still wanted to, but I was both convicted and simultaneously reminded of hope. A 45-minute ordeal begins to shrink in importance when reminded of a lifetime.
And, as a small aside, the recital couldn't have gone better.
God is good, and good to me.
