I’m coming up on one year since I parted with my former church of over a decade. I promised myself that I would not revisit my written story (that I wrote at the end of 2023) until one year later. I had written it all down so I could leave it behind and not fight to keep it alive in my mind and heart. If I’m honest, I haven’t fully put it behind me; I don’t know if I ever will. There will always be some kind of grief and mourning for what it could have been.
But with my mental and emotional awareness fixated on the approaching date, I’ve been making connections with all that is happening during the day. One unexpected connection that led me to reflect happen on one of the projects I’ve been working on at the seminary: recording the psalms read by various staff members, capturing the diversity of our staff through our various accents and reading styles.
For many, reading aloud for others is nerve wracking; being recorded is another level of anxiety. As I’m working with my colleagues to record the psalms, sometimes I would have to interject if someone misses a word or adds a word in the moment while they’re reading and recording. Many of the staff members regularly read the bible in their native tongue or in a different translation (for whatever reason, we settled on NIV) so it happens often. The familiarity of the psalms leads the reader into a cadence where we think we know what comes next and the NIV just tricks us with its unpoetic phrasing (but I digress; this isn’t a post about the NIV). But I found that, even in my observing role on the side to help, I am not immune to this.
I was embarrassed to find that in one of the recordings, while a member was reading, I had interjected and said, “Ah, you added an extra ‘have’ in verse 5.” And the recording continues with that verse being read again so I could edit out the mistake. But as I was reviewing the audio, it was clear today no error was made at all. Rather it was my own reading in my own head that inserted the extra word.
Now if it were not for my regular reflection on the one-year-mark of my parting, I would’ve thought nothing of it — maybe even just laughed to/at myself for the error.
But it made me think.
I recall in the moment that I was so certain there was an extra word inserted by my colleague… enough that I would stop the reading and ask them to return to the top of the verse. But the false read/expectation was mine. I thought I knew where the verse was going from my own memory and inserted my own ‘have’ when it did not belong. And it made me wonder if from my own memory I may have more substantial insertions that just aren’t true. As thorough as my story was as I was writing it, I am pausing to consider where I might have erred.
I’m supposed to open up my story tomorrow but I’m not sure if I will. I might need a few days, but I think I will have to approach even my own words with some care and caution — and I hope some compassion as well.