I have so many memories of Sunday morning...
Being 11 and going to this tiny office space in a shopping center for church. It was called Lanier Hills.
Being 12 and going to that same church, but this time it was in a beaten-up old movie theatre.
Being 13 and finally going to the newly built facility on Duckett Mill Road. Pretty screens, fresh paint, new stage, the works.
Being 14 and joining the choir, sometimes sitting in on keyboard. Watching your worship pastor run the band and choir like a theatre troup, with great skill, virtuosity, and pressure. Christmas At Lanier. Practices starting in July. The November Thanksgiving food boxes. Rehearsals until 8, 9, 10pm. Stage lighting. Gobos. Stand lights. Watching the pianist and thinking, "I'd like to do that someday."
Being 16 and becoming the pianist. More Christmas at Lanier. Recording albums. Being at the church until at least 8 every Tuesday and Wednesday (because you also play and sing for youth) and from 7-noon every Sunday. Special events. Watching the choir director and thinking, "I'd like to do that someday."
Being 17 and feeling as comfortable and happy in your church as you do in your home or in chorus class at school. Hanging out with your bandmates, inside jokes, pranks, sharing life together.
Being 18 and watching the whole pastoral staff that you've grown up with through high school walk out one by one over the course of six months. Worrying that your church is falling apart. Watching a former youth group musician rise to the worship pastor position and you becoming the choir director. Learning how to conduct. Learning that you don't deal with adults talking over you the same way you deal with students talking over you. Learning how to conduct and play piano at the same time.
Being 19 and watching a new set of pastors come in. Becoming attached to them, even the one you argue with because he doesn't like to be disagreed with and you don't like to be pushed around. Becoming particularly attached (in a big-brother way, not a creepy way) to the associate pastor because he's really relatable and funny.
Being 21 and watching the choir slowly shrink into oblivion, as it did for every contemporary church during that time, because choir is less and less a part of people's musical experience now. Becoming the assistant worship director because your worship pastor has suffered a medical setback and needs help (and because the church doesn't want to lose you just because the choir's gone). Preparing for Christmas plays that operate on a far smaller, less formal scale than the juggernaut of Christmas At Lanier. Preparing for Easter sunrise services that feel much more rushed and fraught than any Christmas At Lanier. Bonding particularly with the associate pastor because you have similar senses of humor and similar tendencies toward tact and mediation rather than confrontation.
Being 22 and watching your church multiply by establishing a second campus. Choosing to be the worship director for the second campus so your worship pastor can operate out of the "home" campus. Also because the second campus is closer to your house and the associate pastor that you really like is the lead pastor there. Starting to form bonds at this second campus and enjoying the feeling of newness and uncertainty.
Being 23 and watching your worship pastor, whom you had known since you were 15 and who had been a throughline for you amid all the changes, need to relocate for his family and being suddenly and frighteningly swept into the worship director (you're always a "director" because you're a girl and can't be ordained in this denomination) position. Struggling to find your identity because the job you *actually* want is unavailable right now. Cobbling together a work schedule between teaching at a tiny private school, working in music retail, and this church job for which you feel musically overqualified and spiritually underqualified. Listening patiently and politely while people who don't actually know you give you advice about how to fix yourself. Drawing very near to the people in your worship bands, who support and love you and form a hedge of protection around you.
Being 24 and watching the second campus move into the building it's in now (albeit under a different name and leadership). Broken A/C, an uninhabitable auditorium and bumpy carpet, but a lot of goodwill and positivity.
Being 25 and finally getting that dream job. Realizing you can't do that job well *and* the worship director position well. Resigning from your paid gig, but staying on as the Sunday morning pianist and being the frustrating gadfly at every rehearsal. Continuing to draw nearer to the people at this second campus and eventually feeling your ties to the original Lanier Hills dissolve.
(This is the part where I stop remembering how old I was when stuff happened.)
Getting the auditorium into Sunday service shape and moving in. Casting vision.
Growing to the point where we could support ourselves financially and remove the burden of our mortgage from Lanier Hills - thereby becoming Journey. New logos, colors, T-shirts...staff coming on as we become more and more able to support them. More inside jokes. Laughter. The chili competition. Camaraderie. Failed Christmas plays. Taxidermy in the War Room. Successful Christmas and Easter services. Hilarious mishaps, like sudden Sunday power outages. Lakeside services. Feeling at home like you used to.
Hiring a worship pastor with fresh eyes, lots of energy and lots of ideas. New tech. New patterns. Being a complete pain the butt to him because you can't help your hairy eyeball. Realizing that not only does he tolerate it...he sort of likes it and appreciates it. Becoming fond of him and finding that playing for him is some of the most fun you've ever had in this role.
The sudden, shocking and painful loss of a pastor you've loved (again, in a fully platonic way) more than any other. Alongside it, a resolve to stay right where you are because these people are your tribe and you're going to be there to provide stability and familiarity. Just like you did the last two times.
The pastor who said yes and then said no. The pastor who agreed to interim even though his health often made this burden dangerous. The pastor who came on board for a few months, then scampered off because he didn't get the response he wanted. (There might be one of those that I'm still bitter about.)
Finally, the latest pastor. The latest name change to North Hall Church. New logos again. New colors again. Lots of new faces in the crowd.
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I have put music on a Sunday morning stage for 21 years. For at least the first 10 of those, I only missed one Sunday a year. I make this joke about a lot of things, but it's still true: it all feels like yesterday and like 400 years ago.
On the one hand, I've never actually left a church during this time. When I started going to the church I'm at now, it was a second campus of Lanier Hills. I wasn't leaving, but rather expanding my existing church. The other changes took place over my head.
On the other hand, I feel like I've gone to a different church every year. The faces in the choir, then the band, changed constantly. New leadership. Reorganization. Name changes. People who dropped in and blew away like autumn leaves. People who came to serve and left for missions. People who came to build and left to build anew. People who came to seek righteousness and left in handcuffs.
The longest break I've ever taken was one month, and that was a defined break. I knew exactly which Sunday I'd return.
It has been a tumultuous and wonderful ride. But guys. I am TIRED. I've had plenty of Sundays where I was ready and rarin' to go to church and plenty where I only went because I was expected to be on stage and I am ready for a change. I am ready to start to explore my spiritual life more deeply, and for me, that means I need to extricate it from my profession. Lots of people don't have that problem, but I do...I feel that I am stifled a bit by "church" and "job" being so closely connected. I bring teacher brain to band practice and it's time to step back. It's time to appreciate church for community and for spirituality rather than as a place to exercise my music muscles. That was fine when I was younger, but it's becoming a hindrance now.
On a more sentimental note - I worry that my constant presence is a hindrance to someone else's journey. There might be some kid in the crowd that sees me up there at the piano and thinks, "I'd like to do that someday" and I am delaying their someday by being up there. I got my start at 14 (keyboard) and 16 (piano) because people we thought were irreplaceable needed replacing. It's time to get out of the way and let someone else start writing their story.
So I'm going on an indefinite sabbatical. I'm not leaving the faith, just giving this specific ministry a break.
Diana, Linda, Scott, Kevin, Skitch, Fletch, Cupcake, Sam, Dave, Julie, Chelsea, Chase, Jay, Jonathan, Beth, Stevie, Christi, Bradley, Kay, Megan, David, Jimmy M., Hastin, James, Keith, Jeff, Matt, Bud, Brett, Mitch, Jason S., Jennie, Chad, April, Trent L., Angela, Jason C., Kelly, Steve A., Jimmy S., Lindsey, Ashley, Will, Vanessa, Ferg, Cameron, Alan, Geezer, Greg, Kelli, Kendal, DB, Stoneburner, Don, Anita, Sarah, Trey, Chris, Jamie, and so many more that I can't even remember them all...
...Jon, El Gato, Charlie, Dan, Amber and Billy...
...thank you for everything. See you wherever there's free food.
