Choose Faith, Not Fear

By Donna Amidon

I was a music major in college but never dreamed I’d make it into one of the school’s most popular choirs as the assistant pianist. Surprisingly, I did. With tours, travel, and recording projects, it was the choir to be in.

But there was a problem. This was a gospel choir where the musicians played by ear, and my training had been strictly classical. I was the type of pianist who could read anything put in front of me. But play a song by ear? Impossible. And honestly, terrifying.

This was especially unsettling because every choir rehearsal opened with the accompanist playing a song the director chose on the spot. Since the main pianist could play by ear and I was the assistant, it didn’t seem to be a problem. But I always feared the day the pianist would be absent and I’d be asked to play in his place. 

Two months into the semester, that day came. 

As rehearsal was starting, the accompanist slipped out of the room. The choir director motioned me to come to the grand piano. He cued me to begin playing and, in his booming voice, said, “Good evening, choir. Let’s all sing the old hymn ‘Amazing Grace.’”

I panicked. “Amazing Grace”? Shouldn’t every church pianist know how to play “Amazing Grace”?

Feeling the blood rush to my face, I shook my head no because the words would. Not. Come. Then in front of the 150-voice choir, the director stared at me in shock and said, “You can’t play ‘Amazing Grace’?”

“No . . . no, I can’t,” I muttered, feeling so small.

I returned to my chair, buried my face in my hands, and sobbed.

No surprise, that was my last semester in choir. No one asked me to leave. I didn’t pray about my decision or talk with anyone. I just quit. Though God had opened this door of opportunity, I doubted my ability and let those feelings win.

Have you noticed our fears and feelings have the potential to control and cripple us? They can quench creativity, complicate relationships, choke dreams, and steal the joy of everyday life. At an even deeper level, our feelings can chip away at our faith. Rather than move forward with the confidence that God is with us, we cave under our thoughts and fears. As a result, we can live a “less than” life because we let our feelings win.

This was the case in my decision to quit the choir, but three years later, an unexpected conversation opened my eyes in a way I’ll never forget. 

While heading to my dorm, I ran into the assistant choir director on campus. After chatting for a while, he surprised me by asking why I had quit the choir. I shared my reasons, to which he responded with an answer that still impacts me to this day. 

He said, “Do you know what the director told me after you left? He said you would have been the best accompanist the choir ever had.” 

Me. The girl who couldn’t play “Amazing Grace.” 

I’ll never forget how I felt in that moment. I was grateful for the encouragement yet felt deep loss and regret as I realized what I’d missed because I had let fear win. At the same time, I knew I had learned a lesson that would stay with me for the rest of my life: what we believe about ourselves and how we view God sets the trajectory of our lives. 

Will we pull back in fear or move forward in faith? Will we believe what we see or cling to what God says?

As long as we’re in this world, we have an Enemy prowling at our heels, wanting to derail us from God’s best and the fullness of peace. He twists the truth, makes us doubt God’s goodness, and trips us up with illusions of inadequacy and lies of defeat. 

But God has more.

What is the situation you’re facing now — the one stealing your joy and consuming your thoughts? In your struggle and mine, what if we stopped long enough to see ourselves and our situations through God’s eyes and not our own? What if we viewed our situations not as obstacles but as opportunities to trust God?

What if we lived with a different perspective?

Sometimes, I close my eyes and replay that sunny afternoon, hearing the assistant director’s words as if for the first time. It’s still hard to believe: the director thought I would have been the best. And maybe God did, too.

I’ll never know what might have been — the experiences, the open doors. But one thing I know: every ‘no’ I once said in fear can become a ‘yes’ I choose in faith today — a yes that sets my path toward God’s best for me – for His glory.