Published Feb 18, 2025
Playing piano has always been my thing.
Singing? Not so much.
(I’m great at finding the harmony, but I’m definitely not solo material.)
So, I surprised even myself when I stepped up to pinch-hit with a vocal solo some years back.
Traveling with a girls’ choir from an Adult & Teen Challenge center in New York came with its own set of adventures—equal parts chaos, heartwarming moments, and downright fun. As a staff member, I was one of the van drivers, the performance prep coach, and the one standing in the back of the room, waving my arms like a wild conductor to remind everyone to smile.
But one day, just as we were piling into the van to head to an engagement, one of the women had to bow out. She had a key solo in one of our songs.
None of the others were willing to take it. And, as they say, the show must go on. So, I stepped up. Good grief.
Since the choir sang with background accompaniment tapes, there was no helpful pianist to cover any shaky notes. And because I wasn’t wearing the standard uniform, I stood out—front and center, holding a songbook. I poured my heart into singing the verses of Cup of Cold Water, fully aware with every note that this was far from my shining moment.
At the end of the concert, the other staff member, who had been managing the sound system, came up to me, put her hands on my shoulders, looked me straight in the eye and said, “That was very brave of you.”
(I could read between the lines.)
Ooftah. Ugh. My goodness. Good grief. All the words.
But you know what? It was brave. And I did it. Besides, my one little solo probably gave the audience something to talk about on their way home, right?
That musical moment is a very vivid memory—stepping out of my comfort zone, knowing it wouldn’t be perfect, but knowing it was the right thing to do. And I was brave.
Since then, that solo has become a stake in the ground. If I can do that, then I can do this.
Sometime, brave movements are small, inconsequential “just do the thing” decisions. Other times, being brave means stepping into a situation that feels huge—whether for myself, a friend, or an organization I care about.
What about you? When was the last time you did something brave—even if you weren’t ready and couldn’t guarantee the outcome you were hoping for?
How many times do we say No to opportunities just because we’re worried we won’t be perfect? Or good enough. Or we don’t have the “right” outfit. Maybe it feels too hard, or we’re afraid of looking silly.
How often do we hold off, waiting to feel ready? Or pause until we’re absolutely sure it’ll work out perfectly? (Spoiler: that pause can last forever.)
If we wait for the perfect moment, we’ll never do the thing. We’ll make excuses and avoid stepping up. And we’ll never be brave.
I can look back and remember missed opportunities—conversations that didn’t happen, needs that went unmet, and fun memories that were never created. That makes me sad, and it reminds me to: stop waiting to feel courageous. Just step up.
So. How about if we agree not to wait until we feel courageous—because that moment may never come.
Instead, let’s just get up and do the thing. Courage isn’t a feeling. It’s an action.
Banning Liebscher’s book The Three-Mile Walk: The Courage You Need to Live the Life God Wants for You is one of my top ten favorites.
In it he writes: “The only difference between those who did something for God and those who didn’t was that those who did something for God did something. What separates you is the simple act of moving forward to engage the call of God in some way, no matter how small.”
Doesn’t that just make sense? Yes, I think so too.
There’s a hurting world out there. The needs are great. And you can know with 100% certainty that God has given you skills, talent, and experiences to meet some of those needs.
Life is too short to always stand in the back, waving our arms, and missing out when God invites us into an opportunity. Let’s raise our hand and step into the need—even if we can’t show up perfectly.
Let’s do something. Take action.
Let’s be brave.
P.S. Send me a note and tell me about your “courage moment.” I’ll high-five you through the screen!
This page contains an Amazon affiliate link for Banning’s book. (Is it appropriate to call him by his first name? Hmmm…having read a couple of his books makes me feel like I know him just a bit, I guess. So, I’m going with it.) If you purchase his book through this link, your cost will be the same, but I may receive a commission. I only link to books and products I personally love. (This one is so good!)