Stories and Gooseberries

The guitar plays the familiar chord. There is a hush as the congregation soaks in the lovely sound. The instruments slowly build, and the voices rise up. The hymn begins. It's an old hymn, traditional and well-known. The words are like honey, so rich and sweet. Melody and harmony melt together, The tune filled with spirit and passion. In the crowd, her voice wavers.  The chorus fills her soul with precious memories. The memories well up in her throat and spill out in her tears. The hymn continues. The wavering voice grows strong again. She finds the harmony in a sea of melody. With eyes closed and hands raised, she sings with jubilee. The precious memories change to a vision. She sees herself meeting Jesus, singing a hymn. The hymn ends. The congregation sings a long amen. The visions of rapture fade as her eyes open. And in her soul, the hymn begins again. Love, Lynwood

 I was discussing social anxiety with a friend recently, and she asked me what childhood event I think might have sparked my social anxiety.  One specific event came to mind - one that I have not, until recently, been so open to share.  I do not believe this was the first event that had some role in the development of my social anxiety, but I know it played a drastic role.  And so we begin, the story about my most embarrassing moment... I started cheerleading in the 1st grade.  In the 3rd grade, I joined competition cheer.  For a football sidelines little league squad, we were pretty good, and my first year, we won State and made it to the Regionals!  That being said, the cheer season took us all the way through the winter, and since we weren't drinking as much water in the cold, we had a couple issues with girls passing out at practice.  Our coach had us all start drinking a whole bottle of Gatorade before practice.  Now, for a normal kid, t...