Some  time ago, Ruth sent me an e-mail.  “Sue, I think you’re being called upon to lead at your church.  You go!”  Ok, that’s a paraphrase but it gets her point across.  My reaction?  “God, help me.”

There  are things I’m comfortable with and things I’m not.  I can get up and lead a session at a writers conference with confidence.  I love teaching about my passions, but most especially about writing.

But put me up in front of a group at church and I panic.  P-A-N-I-C.  Sweats.  Cold hands.  Churning stomach.  Panic.  So let’s just say that I shuddered off Ruth’s comment and went on with my life.

Those of you who read my posts regularly know that I am active at Florissant Presbyterian Church, most especially with my favorite activity – the church choir.  I love music although I’m not likely to ever get a solo.  Choir makes me happy.  It keeps me balanced.  It gives me hope.  Its how I recharge my batteries.

Each summer, we take a more or less 10 week sabbatical starting right after July 4th.  Most everyone else, including our choir director, relishes this time off.  Not me.  I dread it.  I feel adrift.  I need my anchor.  So with the 4th rapidly approaching, I’ve been bemoaning my fate.  “What am I going to do without choir?  How will I stay connected?”

Be careful what you ask for.  About two weeks ago a member of the Christian Ed committee caught me in the hall.  She wanted to know if I’d be willing to teach adult Bible study as part of our Summer Bible School program.  The topic would be parables.  I chewed on my lip.  Bible School is in the evening this summer.  With my son on swim team, we have evening swim meets.  Sometimes we even have two a week.  This would be toward the end of the season.  I couldn’t miss his last meet.  I told her I’d check our calendar and get back to her.

At home, I flipped over to July.  Swim practice.  Swim meet.  Boy Scout camp.   But the week of Bible school had . . . nothing.  There was swim practice in the day time, but in the evening?  Nothing.  No swim meets at all.  No choir because we’re on break.

The message was loud and clear.  This was how I would stay connected over the break.  It definitely wasn’t the answer that I’d been expecting but it was one that even I could hear over the splash at the pool and the slamming of storm doors.  Summer may be here, but my opportunities to learn and deepen are not on sabbatical.  I just need to be open to the possibilities.

And, as Ruth predicted, it looks like I am, in my own small way, going to lead.