Have you ever noticed how fear can wrap itself around your vision of the future like vines growing up and over these windows? Often my most promising possibilities become entangled and overrun by my fears.
Yellow reminds me of cowardice and courage. I suggest the second is born from the first. Only when we feel our fear’s claustrophobic panic can true courage arise. Brave people are often scared people who choose to cut away those stifling reasons to stay covered in vines. They trust in The Eternal “anchor of hope.”
Today’s post is for all those yellow lovers out there! Yellow lovers are those who feel this two-sided color and yet choose to dance with both emotions.
I just received the first half of my manuscript back from the editor. Her corrections are exactly what my writing needed! I thought I understood grammar better than I actually did. So it is fitting to thank Dr. Harvey publically for her detailed notes and corrections.
I was afraid to find a professional editor. When I found her, I felt ashamed to have her read my first book. Fear of failure riddled thoughts as she talked me through my writing weaknesses.
Rarely am I not afraid when a new venture looms. Traveling to South America scared me. This was my first overseas trip in sixteen years (except for our family’s Caribbean Cruise a few years before). Had I not pushed beyond my fears, I would not have these amazing photos and memories to enjoy.
Recently, I confronted another long-term fear. I sang one of my songs for a music composer. Now, I do not like to sing in front of anyone let alone a master at this craft.
I had an embarrassing singing experience when only twenty-years old and vowed to never sing publically again. My pastor invited me to sing songs I wrote in front of hundreds of people at my church. Right before I started, a former boyfriend walked up the aisle and sat in front of me smiling.
He was a gifted musician and singer who had grown frustrated with trying to teach me to sing. I was so nervous that I forgot the words and the only sound you could hear was my mother praying, “Jesus, Jesus.” I somehow managed to get through the songs but as I walked down the aisle afterwards, I felt a part of me die inside.
The only other time since then that I sang publically was for an awards banquet while attending college. A music professor offered me private voice lessons if I would sing. The song I sang was “I believe I can fly.” This was also a grueling experience and I swore that I would never sing again!
So when songs started coming to me in the night and while I drove, I sang them into a tiny tape recorder tucked away from the ears of others. In time, a musical for youth seemed to form. I told my students about the songs and some of them started to receive their own. This amazed me because the only singing they heard from me was when I would sing the Dutch birthday song to those celebrating a birthday.
I shared the songs with my daughter, Andy, and she found a musical composer who asked to hear them. Once again, I found myself faced with the fear of singing. Yet, how could I model bravery for my students if I wasn’t willing to sing? The time had come for me to climb over my fears and on the other side of yellow.
So I sang with a quivering voice for the musician before me. I sang for all of those students coming to me saying, “Mrs. Luna I am getting songs.” I sang for myself so I could finally cut away those vines of fear and expose windows of possibility to the light.
Whether or not anything comes of these songs beyond my classroom audience matters not. What is important is that I chose to risk. Yes, yellow reminds me to take the path of courage in spite of my inhibitions.
So when you see yellow and feel that sweaty-palm fear, remember that living in the courageous side of yellow provides the strength to overcome! I can assure you of wonderful possibilities waiting!