Imposter Syndrome

The photo below means a lot to me. It was taken on Palm Sunday this year, and it marked the first time in over a decade that I sang in church again. It was not until now that I truly understood why that mattered so much.

Here at the church we attend, I joined the music ministry as a keyboardist a few months ago, and it has been an incredible experience. I had not played in church since I left Costa Rica almost five years ago. When we moved to the U.S., the pandemic started almost immediately, and I could not get involved at first. Then the break from playing music stretched longer than I wanted.

But when we moved to a new city, I knew it was time to get back on the field, at least on the keyboard. Those who know me know I have always loved music in all its forms, and when it comes to playing music for God, that passion multiplies a thousand times over.

But singing was different. I had pretty much left it behind. I sang for a few years in Costa Rica, but I saw it as a chapter of my youth that I had closed.

Until God reminded me that He had other plans.

Out of the blue, I got a text from the arts ministry pastor at my church, inviting me to a meeting to join the choir as the tenor lead (though I am actually a baritone) and to sing on what they call “frontline” here, what we used to call “background vocals” in Costa Rica. I was honestly shocked because I had never told anyone here that I used to sing or that it was something I would be interested in doing.

After that meeting, I got fully involved in the rehearsals and preparations for Easter services. But something strange happened during the first vocal rehearsal. As soon as I held the mic, I felt a terrible insecurity, as if I was not good enough for what they expected from me.

They call that “imposter syndrome,” the feeling of being severely underqualified for a role or position you are already in. That rehearsal was rough. I felt like I was off-key in every song and could not sing with the strength I was supposed to have.

On my way home, God reminded me why I felt that way. Years ago in Costa Rica, someone in a position of authority called me in to talk about my role in youth services. They basically told me I “wasn’t what they were looking for” and did not want me singing anymore. Just like that.

I swear I had completely forgotten that moment, but clearly my heart had not. After that, I stopped singing at church altogether and would only occasionally play the piano.

Remembering that hurt, but it was exactly what I needed in order to approach the next rehearsal with a different attitude. I do not know if I sang better or worse that time, but I gave it my all. Just like the old days. Just like when I knew God had given me a talent and a passion meant to be used.

After several rehearsals, Palm Sunday arrived, the moment captured in this photo. I wanted to explain the backstory because we often see people doing and achieving things without realizing what they had to go through, fight for, or wait for to get there.

I am sharing this because I often heal my wounds by writing about them. But the main reason is that I know some of you might feel the same in your service, your job, your studies, or whatever God has placed in your hands: inadequate, lost, and weighed down by insecurity.

Today, I want to remind you of what the Bible says about this: God has plans to give us a peaceful and hopeful future, not to harm us (Jeremiah 29:11). If you are feeling sad or alone, remember that God is near in those painful moments (Psalm 34:18). You do not need to be afraid, because God will strengthen you and help you (Isaiah 41:10). He has chosen us to show how good He is, especially by bringing us out of dark places and into light (1 Peter 2:9). And if you love God, everything that happens in life can become part of His plan for your good (Romans 8:28).