Something that my friend, Erin, shared in this morning’s beautiful Sunday service talk reminded me of a powerful experience I had many years ago that helped me reach a similar conclusion.
It was basically the gig from hell, due mostly to the fact that I was doing way too much, to the point that my life was spinning out of control. I had multiple rehearsals that day, followed by an evening gig in Oakland. My ex-husband (a double bass player) needed the car, so I was dependent on getting a lift from my last rehearsal to the church in Oakland, figuring I would take BART back to San Francisco. I hadn’t done laundry in so long that my usual black performance clothes were dirty, so I was wearing some random thing of my mother’s(!) that I didn’t even feel good in. And to top it all off, we had no food in the house, so I was counting on grabbing something on the fly once I got to Oakland.
Well.
Turns out the church was up in the Oakland hills with absolutely no stores or restaurants (or BART stations!) in the vicinity. Bummer.
Then it turns out that when the woman who hired me said “after five attire,” she meant fancy, like cocktail party clothes. She was so horrified at what I was wearing that she made me take off the (admittedly ugly) blazer jacket and put on her flowy caftan-type outfit over my black pants. Of course, that left her wearing boring black and she was not happy with me.
Needless to say, I felt awful. But I got through the gig (which was the ordination of a new minister) and was more than ready to take in some sustenance at the reception. I would have given almost anything for some cheese and crackers! But no, the refreshments consisted of little marzipan cakes and champagne. Partaking of either would have been worse than eating nothing.
Of course, being up the hills I had to wait for a complete stranger to give me a ride to the BART station. The final insult came when I got on a train going in the wrong direction. A complete and utter disaster of a day that contained lots of lessons for me, as well as one gift.
Several ministers spoke at the ordination, one of whom I found particularly inspiring. I don’t recall much of what he said, only the phrase: “God loves me. I love God. Nothing else matters.”
That was my mantra for some time and I’ve never forgotten it to this day.
God loves me. I love God. Nothing else matters.
