My Apologies

Dear Congregation (in my church building today),

I'm sorry to say that the song you heard today in Sacrament Meeting was in fact, NOT the one I had been practicing for eight months.  Indeed, it wasn't even the same as the one I practiced that very morning.  Something happened between the time I stood up to walk to the piano and when I sat down at the instrument -- all 25 steps.

Apparently, my super hero senses kicked in the moment I sat on the bench and suddenly I could hear every movement, every crumpling paper, and every child's whisper despite the mental brick wall I built between the 150 people and me.  At the same time that my super keen hearing power kicked in, an earthquake began.  Well, it must have been an earthquake because for some reason, my entire being was shaking, and no amount of self-talk or deep breathing could make it stop.  The shaking started in my feet and ran through to the top of my head. 

Somehow the keys got switched during all that shaking because the notes I played weren't the ones written.  The earthquake significantly slowed my playing as I was having a difficult time controlling where to put my fingers.  Also, I think I must have been abducted by aliens for a brief minute because at one point, I had no idea what I had played or what I was to play next.  The very awkward moments that followed while I guessed where to strike the next keys were excruciatingly embarrassing.  I finished the song, thank heavens, with the correct notes.

I couldn't bear to look up at anyone as I returned to my seat.  Somehow, the shaking had ceased.  The piano-centered earthquake only lasted the duration of my musical number.  Even thought the shaking had ceased, the waterfall began.  I desperately began searching for tissues as I tried to contain the leaking from my eyes.  The anger and shame seared my face, and I wanted to run.  Only the thought of drawing more attention to myself kept me glued to my seat.

My husband let me silently cry and held my hand.  He said I sounded great, and that even though there were mistakes, I performed wonderfully.  My ever-supportive sister-in-law, who turned the pages for me, handed me the tissues and was completely empathetic (she plays the piano as well).  (Later on, after we returned home, my husband reminded me that it had been 11 years since I'd performed publicly, and that it would only improve if I kept practicing and performing for people.)  Immediately, the scripture passage from Ether 12:27 came to mind.  It states,

And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.

Yep, my weakness was glaring me in the face.  No matter the time and effort I put into practicing a song, I can't perform in public.  I don't do it.  That is my weakness.  No matter how flawless I play at home, when I sit in front of a crowd of people, it sounds as if I haven't practiced in months.  That is my weakness.

Yet, the promise is strong.  The promise is that if I have faith, then the Lord will make this weakness become a strength.  If I practice and perform more, the Lord will make this easy for me.  I will get good at it.  Perhaps not in a year or in two years, but eventually. 

With the performance over, the emotions running dry, and the support of wonderful family members and some good friends who said kind words to me after the service, I'm ready to pick a new song.  I'm ready to play again.  As my childhood friend told me, "If the horse bucks you off, you get right back up and get on."  This morning, I felt bucked off, but I'm happy to say that I'm going to get back on.

To the friend who said, "Good job, LeMira, I didn't know you could play like that,"  I say, "thank you."  That is what I needed to hear; you gave me the courage to climb back up on that horse.  Thank you for telling me that you were impressed (because that's the attitude in which she said it). I'm not a flawless player, but I sure tried my best.  While I'm not happy with the outcome, I can say that I finally achieved something I hadn't been able to do in 11 years.  I performed a solo in public, and I hope I can again.

To my friends in the congregation, thank you for allowing me to be shown my weakness and for giving me the chance to learn how to make it a strength.

Most Sincerely,

LeMira