Decisions, Decisions...

Having lived with a chronic illness for three years, I have a lot for which I can be grateful. No, really, I do. I mean, it's given me perspective on life that I didn't have before, and I've learned, little by little, not to obsesses about little, piddly things. Or least, I'm learning. Oh, and, you know, there's that whole carpe diem thing.

(For those of you unfamiliar with my condition, go here and read the post I wrote about my diagnosis.)

A few weeks ago, the music director at church informed us of a special invitation we had received from a visiting priest to come tour and sing at various locations where this priest lives. While staying at our parish for a month, he learned to love our music and our passion for prayer while singing, and he wanted to share our gifts with the people of his region.

The dilemma?

He lives in Uganda.

We are a very small, "economically challenged" parish. We have a roof that's falling apart, a courtyard that has awnings falling down, and an air conditioner that seems to have trouble keeping its copper coils from being stolen. Still, we are a loving parish with a warm spirit and very inviting people. Our music ministers are dedicated, talented, and Christ-centered.

So, we are embarking on a major fund raising campaign in order for our musicians to travel to Africa in June 2010.

Now, I'm not going to say that traveling to Africa is my lifelong dream, but consider this: imagine being able to sing for hundreds (maybe thousands) of people in a basilica, in an orphanage, in a village at a "church" with no roof, in front of a local bishop, for "rich" and poor alike. People open to receiving what we have to give, expecting nothing but the generosity of our hearts and our music.

For a singer of liturgical music, the opportunity is the dream in a lifetime, an opportunity that maybe comes once.

And I've opted not to even consider going.

When I heard first heard of this opportunity, my heart soared...for a moment. Then, reality came crashing down. No, it wasn't fear of The Lord's Resistance Army that struck me. It was the idea of asking my doctors if I could go, getting my hopes up, and then having them crushed by hearing them say, "Did you really think we'd advocate your traveling to a third world country with no health care options in the event of a medical emergency? You wouldn't even be able to tolerate the inoculations necessary for the travel!"

Sigh.

And so, I will work alongside my fellow ministers and help them raise funds for the trip of a lifetime.

And I'll pray for them when they embark on this mission.

All while I sit at home, playing it safe.

No regrets.

I can have no regrets for, God willing, I will be ALIVE.