…Order my steps in your word Dear Lord. Lead me, guide me every day. Send Your anointing Father I pray. Order my steps in your word…please order my steps in your word…

These are the lyrics to the song that earned me an F in choir during my freshman year in college. I was new to being out on my own, and I went buck wild. The first real taste of independence for someone who had never known freedom can be a dangerous thing. Everything that an overly sheltered child would do once she was on her own…I did it. I went clubbing, partying, drinking, smoking, having sex, skipping class, getting into fights. It was the best time ever, so I thought. I had no idea that I was miserable. I had no idea that I was hurting, and my actions proved it. At one point, I had drank so much alcohol that I had developed a stomach ulcer. The campus doctor looked at me in disbelief and urged me to change my ways. But I was spinning out of control, and when you’re out of control it takes a lot to just stop spinning.

Now, I have been a singer my whole life. I loved singing, but I was often shut up as a child. My mother would make me sing at church but make me shut up at home. After a while, I got to the point where I didn’t want to sing at church either. However, when I was told to sing I did. In hindsight, I can see how I had become so confused about who I was and what I should or should not be doing. So, one day I just stopped singing in front of other people and would sing very quietly at night when everyone else was asleep. I’ve always been a night owl, so I sat up at night and sang to the Lord. I don’t think I sang to God, however, during that freshman year of college. I was busy, very busy doing other things.

I reminisce often about my time in the church choir. The church children’s choir would sing often. I remember standing there, not fitting in, wanting to hurry up and get practice over with. However, I enjoyed singing, so once the music started, I was okay. Church choir led me to high school choir. When I got to high school and walked down the hall near the choir room I was drawn in, hearing the choir sing. I don’t know how I gathered that confidence to ask if I could join the choir, but I did. I must have really missed singing.

Mr. Wesley Boyd was the maestro of high school choir directing. A Washington D.C. newspaper once wrote that, “Wesley Boyd could make a dog sing.” Mr. Boyd had us traveling everywhere we could afford to go for singing engagements. We traveled to New York, sang at a Duke Ellington concert, and were invited to sing at church revivals, as well as at funerals. We were everywhere. Then, it just stopped. Not long after that article was published, Mr. Boyd received word that he either had to get a teaching degree/certification or he would not be able to continue as Anacostia’s choir director. No matter how much we begged him to stay, he refused to. And no matter how much he begged the school to help, either they couldn’t, or they wouldn’t. He left, and the Anacostia choir ended. We were all devastated. I personally felt abandoned…again. First by my biological mom, then emotional abandonment by my current mom, now Mr. Boyd. I recognized when it happened that I felt abandoned. But I did not have the spiritual or emotional tools to express myself or to ask for help. I think back then I believed that there was just no help for me.

So, when I went to college and took choir class I, much to my surprise, was just not ready for choir. I was still hurt that Mr. Boyd left and was not ready to trust another choir director. I never went to class. I never went to practice. I dodged the choir director at all costs. I had given up on singing. At the end of the semester, when grades were coming out, I began to worry about my choir grade. I knew I was on the verge of failing and finally talked with the choir director, begging him not to fail me.

He said he’d think about it and expressed how disappointed he was that I had not been more committed to choir. I offered to sing with the choir at the last performance for the semester, and he agreed to let me. I showed up late, my outfit was not right, I didn’t know the words to the song. As I stood there, mouthing silent words, I felt it coming…

Shame had hit me. And since that very day, every time I hear “Order My Steps,” the choir’s final song for the semester, my remembrance would travel back to that day and the shame would creep up all over again. I failed choir. I had failed CHOIR. That’s SO embarrassing! I missed out on the friendships I could have forged, the confidence I could have built, and the spiritual experience. Of all the things I missed out on, forfeiting that spiritual experience hurts more than anything.

Recently, I started listening to the song again. This new phase in my spiritual journey brought me to it. I was tired of listening to and singing the songs on my playlist. I needed something different. Spirit encouraged me to go back, way back. “Order My Steps” by the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir was back there. I began to listen to the song more and sing it more. Shyly singing as the memories of my failure resurface. I pushed past the memories and sang anyways. Learning the words and meditating on them brought more confidence and boldness. I was singing with my renewed spiritual lenses. I motivated myself by reminding myself how hard I have worked to get to where I am. I confidently sang aloud. The shame is still there, though. I assumed that this shame would always be there as a lesson, so I began to accept the shame and my actions that caused it. I would no longer let that stop me from singing that song ever again.

Then it happened. During one of my late-night worships sessions as I sat in my candle lit closet with the door closed, having finished doing yoga and meditation, it was time to sing and worship. Order my steps was up next on the queue. I sat full of the Spirit and sang with my whole self as quietly as I could in order to not wake anyone up. But Spirit had other plans. As per usual, the deeper I got into the song, that memory, of my failed performance with my college choir popped into my head. The shame arose, but also, out of the blue…understanding.

“I was so hurt back then.” I told myself. “I was flailing because I was hurting, and young, and didn’t know where to turn for help.” In my mind, the older me stood behind the younger me, and watched what little confidence she had left leave her body. The older me stood there and watched the shame enter her body. I watched as she looked at all the other choir members hug each other after the performance, and disregard her…because she had not been there. I watched as she walked away hurt and angry. I followed her and put her back on the stand during the time the choir was singing “Order My Steps” on that stage. This time, I hugged her from behind until she melted into the older, wiser, stronger me. I stood in that choir, the older, wiser, stronger me, and I sang those words because I knew them, I gave my voice, and it blended with that college choir.

Sitting down, I found that I could no longer contain myself. I began to walk around my closet, and sing as I told my young self, “I forgive you for not showing up to choir classes and rehearsals. I forgive you for not knowing the lyrics to that song. I forgive you for not wearing the right outfit. I forgive you for this moment when you were so lost and hurting so badly. I began to worship God louder and my body began to shake. The shame of that moment slid off like slime sliding down a pole. I began to worship and thank God uncontrollably. I had healed myself. I finished the song with the choir and walked away with my head held high.

I KNOW the words. Now, the words mean so much to me. Back then, they were just words to get out of the way so that I could move on to the next thing that I wanted to focus on.

Now, though, those very same words give me life. I feel them in my chest when I sing them. I feel the understanding. I know what it takes to grow from them.

I had been healed, and I did it for myself through forgiveness. Next!

… I want to walk worthy (I want to walk worthy)
My calling to fulfill (my calling to fulfill)
Please order my steps, Lord (please order my steps, Lord)
And I’ll do Your blessed will
The world is ever-changing (the world is ever-changing)
But You are still the same (still the same)
If You order my steps, Lord (please order my steps, Lord), I’ll praise Your name…

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FCM member Sakinah Y. Nicholson-Carter, MDiv., is a chaplain and spiritual counselor. She is also a member of Alpha Kappa Alpha sorority.