To His Glory

Ever since I was around two, my mom used to teach me nursery rhymes and other songs, and my dad used to videotape all my recitals. He worked shifts at a petrochemical company in Jubail, Saudi Arabia, and that’s where I grew up till halfway through high school. Every day off, we’d have sessions where he’d set up the video camera and make me recite all the poems and songs I knew. My mom would dress me up and help me if I forgot any of the words, my dad would record and instruct me on how to present myself in front of the camera, how to sit, stand, and smile. 

With this as part of my regular routine, I grew up with no concept of stage fright or being camera shy. He used to encourage me to take part in every event or school competition that came up, saying, “It’s not about winning; it’s about participating and doing your best.”

Eventually, I learned to play the keyboard and actively participated in group songs and solos at school as well as Sunday school. Friends and family all around were well-aware that I sing well. When I got to college, I also led worship at the fellowship that we went to, and often performed solo or with my brother at different church and family events. After every performance, Dad would give us feedback. Even if every single person listening said they loved it or that our song was awesome, he would always have at least one area where we could have done better. And it was always constructive feedback, which led both my brother and me to aim for nothing short of perfection in music whenever we performed. Anything related to sounds and acoustics, he would always know what to fix and how to fix it, and he’d also make sure we learned everything about it that we needed to from him.

Time went by, and I got married and moved to the UK. Unexpectedly, he passed away while I was there, and I was only able to make it back to India in time for the funeral. I didn’t even get to say a proper goodbye.

The whole experience was nerve-racking and traumatic. I mustered up the courage to perform one final song with my brother for his memorial service. I chose “10,000 Reasons” by Matt Redman. I still have no idea why I chose that song or how I sang in front of an audience that day, but from then on, I was just unable to sing. Anything I sang would be from my mouth and not from my heart. Something was missing, and I had no idea what it was or how to fix it. Every time I tried to, tears would well up in my eyes, and I would remember how Dad used to push us forward to do our best. How he would help us carry our instruments for every performance and most importantly, how he enjoyed listening to us jam.

I woke up one morning, seeing a random dream involving one of my best friends, where we were working on something new together. It had been a while since we had spoken, and I hadn’t thought about her much, so I just shrugged it off, thinking nothing of it.

I freaked out when I received a text from her, saying that they were going to host a small pre-wedding reception/prayer meeting the day before her brother’s wedding, and asking if my brother and I could lead worship. I told her yes right away, because deep in my heart I really wanted to, but then sat down thinking if I would really be able to do it. I tried convincing myself this was probably meant to be because of the dream I had seen the previous night, and told myself, “It’s been years, but hey, you’re doing it for the Lord’s glory, so of course you should do it.”

That’s when I heard a voice inside me saying, “Are you sure you are doing it for Me and My Glory?”

I froze. “Yes?” I thought, questioning myself. “Hasn’t it always been that way?” I paused. “Or has it?”

That’s when reality struck home. I always believed that whether I sang or led worship, I did it for the glory of the Lord and that most certainly was my intention, but digging further into the bottom of my heart, I realized that maybe it was not… Maybe it was more about making Dad proud of how well I caught on to his training (which was certainly not wrong, but the priority?)…Perhaps that’s why I got so gloomy and dull and was never able to muster up the spirit to sing from my heart after he passed away… Perhaps I felt he wasn’t there to watch me… He wasn’t there to feel proud of me…

I sat there, upset. I was actually quite disappointed with myself. As much as I was careful never to pride myself on my singing, I had overlooked this aspect of my motives and didn’t even realize it existed. I thanked God for bringing me to this realization and asked him to help me sing from my heart and glorify him, and things are definitely getting better. I am happier and more confident singing these days, and I can clearly sense what a difference this realization has made.

My mom once told me there are things we do wrong intentionally and unintentionally (i.e., sinning with our knowledge and without our knowledge). This incident was a real example of things we unintentionally do wrong sometimes.

Sometimes, we just think we’re doing the right thing and that our motives are right, but it takes more than a self-evaluation to realize we’re not on the track we’re aiming to be. That’s why we need the Lord as our shepherd, to lead us beside quite waters, restore our soul and guide us in the path of righteousness. Only He can open our eyes to truly see what we have in our hearts, and only He can help us overcome the things we need to fix within ourselves.