Comfort Zones

A couple of weeks ago, Emily and I were asked to go with the sister missionaries to teach a discussion to a girl Emily's age.  We were happy to help and just as excited to hear that Jennifer decided to be baptized.  That is until the sisters asked us to participate in the program- Emily to give a talk, and I to play the piano.

I've tried to keep my extremely limited piano "skills" a secret.  I know, I know, candle under a bushel and all that.  Look, I will give talks in Sacrament, lead music, or bake for a funeral.  I will clean the bathrooms in our building or for a sick sister.  I will serve with a smile in Nursery, Primary, Young Women's, Relief Society, even Cub Scouts.   But, I really don't like to play the piano in front of other people.  My fingers get sweaty- it's very hard to play the piano with sweaty fingers!  I lose my place in the music- all those notes start to swim around.  I freeze in the middle of a song- completely forgetting how to play at all. Those wrong notes (and I hit a lot of them) sound like they resonate and echo around the room.  Logically, I know my playing isn't quite as bad as I imagine.  But I'm not a very logical person.  Still, I try to make it a habit of assisting anyway I can and said I'd be "happy" to help.  

When I told Emily that Jennifer would like her to give a talk, she had the same expression on her face that I had when asked to play.  By nature, Emily is a quiet, reserved girl.  She doesn't seek a lot of attention to herself- unlike her mother.  She felt shy in the discussion when it was just the sisters, Jennifer and Jennifer's parents.  But lovely Emily still accepted and said she would give the talk.

While I practiced the songs Jennifer asked me to play- songs I didn't know- I wanted to call someone else and asked them to play for me.  I didn't want my mistakes to detract from the spirit of the baptism.  But I kept thinking of Emily, who got a little tearful when she felt overwhelmed at the idea of preparing and delivering a talk.  I was grateful that she had the opportunity of stretching her comfort zones, of accomplishing something difficult.  What kind of mother would I be- asking her to do something uncomfortable and then chickening out myself?

This morning, Emily gave an amazing talk on baptism.  It was beautiful in its simplicity and sincerity.  I stumbled my way through three songs.  But the Spirit was still there and the church is still true.  When the baptism was over, Emily admitted that she kind of enjoyed giving her talk, that it wasn't as bad as she thought.  I still hate playing the piano.  But I'm grateful that my daughter and I were both blessed with the chance to stretch and grow, just a little bit more.