Thoughts From the Stage.

Yesterday was Sunday. And I don't know about your house, but in my house, it's church day. Yep, even on Father's Day. Sunday is church day. So we go. Mainly, because we love it. But also because it's the South and we're supposed to. Just like we're also supposed to sneak out early to get a good seat at Cracker Barrel.

That's just what you do on a Sunday in the South. The rules aren't hard.

So yesterday at church I helped assist in leading worship. Which, I will readily admit, is a job I love. I mean, I LOVE to worship. I do. Anytime you pass me in the car and I'm singing....it's worship. If you see me in Target and I have on my ipod...it's worship. I just love it. And yesterday was a beautiful day of worship at our church.

But not only did I help with the worship, I also had the choir solo. So it was, as I like to call it (as do several of my sarcastic friends in the choir), a Melissa Lee Extravaganza! (Oh, hush. I hear your comments.)

I made a comment a month or so ago in the middle of a conversation that went something like this, "...so right in the middle of the song I spotted Mr. X in the congregation and I was thinking, 'Uh, huh...who is his lady friend with him?' but I just kept right on singing..." now, the sentence is not the point. The point is that whomever I was talking to was floored that I could be singing a song and still thinking about my surroundings.

But aaaaaahhhhhh yes, you most certainly can.

For instance...I have been in the middle of a solo before and thought the following:

"I totally should have gone to the bathroom before this song began, it's like 85 minutes long."

"Where is the Attorney General? Seriously. How long does it take him to park the car? He's missing my song." (Keep in mind the AG has heard me sing some 4,569 times. He is unimpressed. Which I must admit, makes him all the more alluring.)

"Can they see through my shirt?"

"Oh, look! April's parents are here! Hi Pam!"

"What word comes next? What word comes next? Whoo...that was close. I'm hungry."

"Oh, she got her hair cut. And colored. It's about time."

See? These are just a few of the things that can run through my mind at any given moment during the solo portion of a song.

Please don't judge me. I'm only human. I mean a woman can't notice a good color job or perm and not dwell on it, if even for a second.

However, and play close attention here, that does not mean I do not mean what I am singing. I absolutely mean what I'm singing. In fact, I take the job of leading out in worship most seriously. It's my favorite job. But sometimes, something will happen on the stage that will throw me. It will cause me to lose focus. And my mind will wander and I will start thinking about things that are silly and ridiculous and before I know it, our Pastor is requesting a song and yet I am in the middle of a Paula Deen recipe that I have suddenly decided to try...or remembering a line from Andy Griffith...or trying to count up how many times the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders appeared on the Love Boat.

See? This is a serious problem.

Take yesterday for example.

The worship time was going well. Really well, in fact. People were filling the altar and praying with their spouses and I was thinking about the next song in the set-list, when our Pastor turns around to me and says, "Do you know the song..." and before he could reply I say, "We Built This City on Rock and Roll? Yes, I do. Would you like us to sing it?" To which he gets tickled and says, "What about Shamalamabambam?" (Which I personally think he made up) and suddenly we are off to the races and my mind began to wander. Oh no.

And as the sweet time of worship continued and everyone all around me was singing all I could see or hear was this...and it took everything I had not to laugh.

P.S. Before you call my mom and tell on me. She knows. And so does the Lord. Trust me, he knows my thoughts waaaayyy better than I do. He's not mad. Even he gets tickled at Dana Carvey sometimes.

Enjoy!