Isabelle Ambalavanar

Fear has always been something that has the power to take over my life. It can steal my joy and pull me into a self-centered spiral. A lot of times, my fear is rooted in pride- thinking that if something isn’t going according to my plan, then it’s going wrong. However, my fear can also be the result of circumstances out of my control- a justified fear. But justified or not, fear will rule until God steps in.

Then, one day, I was serving on stage while I was about six months pregnant. The first service went just like any other. But during the second service, all of the sudden, I started to feel warm and lightheaded. My legs became weak. I’d never felt this before. I contemplated walking off the stage. I’m sure it’ll go away, I decided. I continued singing, and said a prayer in my head that it would go away. But sometimes, for reasons unknown, prayers aren’t answered. I closed my eyes, thinking that would relieve the dizziness, and I fell down.

I was only passed out for a second or two and I landed on my knees and then tumbled down slowly. I remember sitting on the stage with eyes closed, smiling, thinking to myself how silly it was that I didn’t just walk off. When I opened my eyes, I saw a dazed view of scared faces and people rushing over to the stage. I saw a woman speaking and I just watched her lips move before realizing I couldn’t hear her. I removed my in-ears. Music still playing around me, I heard her say, “Just stay sitting for a minute. You’re probably dehydrated or have low blood sugar.” I nodded. 

Amongst a growing crowd of strangers offering help, I saw my friend and felt relieved. At this point, I honestly didn’t think what had happened was that big of a deal. Then I saw my mother and father in law walking over to me from across the room. It was like when a kid gets injured in a game. First, the team comes over. Then, the coach comes over. But when the parents come over, you realize it may be serious. I reached for my friend and the other woman to help me get off the stage, safely. My husband was on stage too and he followed us as we walked out the door. The leaders prayed for me on stage as I left.

It was very dramatic, and felt even more so because of the vast size of my church. The story spread quickly, too. Even my midwife, who I didn’t realize at the time attended my church, responded to my sharing of the incident with, “I think I heard about that…” 

I was fine, my baby was fine, and I later found out I was low in iron, which probably contributed to a multitude of other factors causing me to pass out. I decided to stop singing on stage until after my daughter was born.

Months after she arrived, I asked to be back on the schedule to lead worship. After every second being devoted to my baby, I was excited to take time to do something I loved. 

But my first Sunday back was different. What had once filled me with joy was now filling me with anxiety. I prayed and asked others to pray that I wouldn’t pass out on stage again. Then, during the first song, I started to feel warm. My head felt light. Should I walk off this time? I should walk off. But I stayed. Is this just anxiety? I remember singing the song Firm Foundation, and trying to proclaim the words, “I’m safe with You, I’m gonna make it through.” Slowly, my head started feeling clearer and the warmth diminished. I kept my eyes open and just focused on getting through the set.

It’s hard to know if what I felt was real or if it was more like a PTSD symptom. But after that, the fear of it happening again consumed me. For the days leading up to each Sunday I was scheduled, I was nervous. On stage, I was more focused on getting through the songs than truly worshiping. I wondered if it was even worth the crippling fear.

After a short break due to scheduling conflicts, I was feeling more ready and excited for the upcoming Sunday’s worship set. I was leading a song I felt the Holy Spirit resonate in, and I felt joyful during rehearsal on Thursday. 

Then, on Friday, I felt something completely new: a boldness that this fearful, timid soul rarely possesses. I’d never shared a story or word of encouragement before the congregation. I’ve sung, and I’ve prayed, but I haven’t spoken. To me, speaking in church feels like preaching (even if it isn’t), and I didn’t feel qualified for that. But something came to my mind while practicing. I kept going over the words in my head, as if I were speaking them on stage. In a moment of courage, I texted our leader and asked if I could speak before I sang on Sunday. She said, “Of course.”

This was a big step for me as a leader. I was nervous, but I knew that when God gives you the words, He calls you to speak them. On Sunday morning, I spoke, I sang, and I felt the courage that only comes from fulfilling God’s will.

At the end of the services, I sat, grateful for the boldness He gave me, when I realized something. The entire day, I had no fear of fainting. I hadn’t even thought about it at all. I was just focused on worshiping Him and sharing about His grace. You see, God calling me to speak about His goodness wasn’t just for His glory, but for my restoration.

God entered where fear once ruled. He redeemed. He restored. And I will sing His praises forevermore.