The Topsy-Turvey Journey of a Brand-New Gigging Musician

This past December, I graduated with my BA in music (viola primary) and Biblical Studies.  I had a neat and tidy plan: I'd get started in various musical gigs, continue in the ones that began in the Fall, and find consistent part-time work to provide stability.

If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans.

I had a few music gigs panning out for shortly after graduation, but in the chaos of finishing my classes, getting together a senior recital, wrapping things up at my on-campus job, preparing to move, and trying to be vaguely ready for Christmas with the family, I figured applications to part-time work could be completed shortly after graduation, mid-December, for a beginning date of early- to mid-January.

The application process exhausted and discouraged me.  Hours of applications and interviews- nothing.

I want to back up for a minute to before I started college.  When considering majors, music wasn't even an idea in my head- for many reasons.  First, I'd never questioned the view that majoring in Music isn't practical and smart for finding work.  Second, I figured I'd go into a helping profession since I wanted to help others (I know, so original).  Third, I figured I wasn't anywhere close to good enough.  I'd started playing strings in 6th grade (which is usually considered late) and hadn't been able to take consistent lessons more than a couple years at a time. There was absolutely no way I'd get accepted into - much less succeed in - a music program.

God laughed.

He gave me no peace of mind about the "practical" majors I was considering.  Instead, he laid one very clear, firm thought in my mind: "Music."

Of course my trusting, faith-filled answer was, "What?!  No!"  Until I was forced to apply to at least one college during my gap year program.  So I did- for music at LBC.  Why?  Because I didn't have a car that year.  It was either phone/video interviews - which terrified me - or auditioning on the same campus where I already lived.

And LBC accepted me, and I decided to attend.  Why?  Because one lesson I learned during that time - one of the most important lessons I'll ever learn - is that the only wrong choice is the one not made in faith.  I was so scared about choosing the wrong major or college, until I realized: going to LBC for music was the step I could take in faith.  Not because I could see what it would look like; believe me, I didn't have a clue.  All I knew is it would be hard, I'd need to work my butt off, and that was something I'd be willing to do.

Every week the first year, I doubted that this was where I was supposed to be.  Cause you know: God gives you a clear leading, gives you the firm conviction that this choice is right because you made it in faith, and then your God's-goodness-amnesia kicks in, leaving you questioning it all.  But as discouraging as those moments of doubt were - at the time and looking back on them - I realize God was also redeeming those.  Because each moment of doubt turned into a moment of remembering that He'll bless faith, of reaffirming the trust that He'd use and redeem this choice.

And He did.  Immensely.  So incredibly.  Infinitely more than I could've come up with or invented on my own.  Seriously, I could filled books just with the things He did during my four and a half years of collegiate education.

So I graduated- and went right back to where I started.  Not trusting God to continue blessing my choice of music, as if His promise would have stopped after college.  I thought, "Great, college is done.  Now I need a job, and it's impossible to live completely on a music career."  Well done, Sarah, great to see how much you've learned.

The first few months consisted of me striving frantically to control my life and work, refusing God's rest He offered me through pausing and trusting.  And it was really rough.

Let me define "really rough": constant worrying, stressing, and panicking; watching hours of applications, interviews, and job-hunting go down the drain and feeling the weight of all that "wasted" time; questioning myself: was I just not trying hard enough?  Was I not hire-able?  Why wasn't this working?  I had no idea what to tell people when they asked how things were going.

I questioned and raged at God.  What was He doing?  I was trying to be responsible, so why was He letting me barley (or not) meet my bottom line for monthly budget?  Why was He letting this happen to me, when I was doing everything possible to avoid it?

In the midst of this, a few very dear friends in the musical community provided such an immense blessing to me through their recommendations to others.  Even in my narrow-sighted panic, I could see that I was receiving more gig requests and opportunities than I'd expected.  This blessing was absolutely huge, and I learned a very important lesson from it: ALWAYS advocate for others and seek to connect them, even if in seemingly small ways.  Because those recommendations and the kindness of these individuals were so huge and profound to me.

And then even that blessing showed an ugly side.  I received an offer: the best paying gig offer I'd received, from a reputable group.  The contents of which I just couldn't support in good conscience.

More questioning God.  Lots of tears.  Lots of anger and trying to find a way to justify just saying yes to that offer.

And then one thought was enough to knock my brain back into perspective: I'm living in an apartment.  My own, beautiful, sweet little home.  This had been such a big fear of mine, and I can't begin to describe what a perfect answer to prayer this living situation has been.  And that's when my brain's lie was called out.  I'd been feeling like God didn't care if I was supported.  But here was this house, an answer to prayer that tangibly showed His care for me.  He was letting me struggle, yes; but He would see me through.  "We are hard-pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair."  (2 Corinthians 4:8)

And so I turned down the tempting offer; definitely not in a saint-like way.  More like a grumpy toddler who obeys while throwing a tantrum.  The step of faith didn't deaden the discouragement of the situation, or of each time a potential job fell through.

And then, a few miracles came: namely, two part-time, consistent, music-related jobs that weren't even on my radar.  In other words, after all my panicking and trying to take things into my own hands, God quietly offered me something better than what I'd been striving for, independent of my striving.

Hear me out: this is not a everything's-perfect-now, neatly finished story.  The one opportunity isn't guaranteed; and the other I haven't started yet.  Who knows what it will be like?  But these called me out, God's way of reminding me, "Child, you've been kicking and screaming in My arms, but I never stopped loving you.  I'm not done writing this story you get to be a part of, and I promise it's going to be good.  Not without hardships, but still good."  And really, this chapter in life has really taught me that: this isn't my story.  It's His.  I'm a character, not the author.  And my Author is so, so good.

Thank you for reading this.  This time of life has been so much more than my spoken words can explain.  But I really want to remember this time, so I tried writing it down.  I hope maybe you find some encouragement in this story, because it's yours, too.  It gets so hard and confusing, but God's redeeming it, and He really does care for you and will hold you.  You are so loved.