Many people who know me don’t think of me as a singer. In fact, anyone besides my husband would probably be surprised to hear me sing aloud by myself. That’s because I’m typically quiet and mild mannered.
Still I love to sing.
I’ve been singing it for as long as I can remember.
My earliest choral memory was singing Stevie Wonder’s “I Just Called to Say I Love You” with my class in elementary school. After that, I joined every choir I was able to join. I spent ten years being one of those “voices” in choirs at school or church.
I recently joined the choir at my current church, and I absolutely love it.
There’s so much talent. So much love. So much passion.
So I always get inspired…even when I don’t expect it.
Earlier this week, I left work late and dreaded going to rehearsal. But I went anyway. (I should’ve known I was in for something because every time I fight that urge to keep driving, something great happens)
As I entered the sanctuary, I heard the director singing and saw everyone with their hands lifted in praise. I joined them, thinking the rest of the evening would be filled with singing.
But it wasn’t.
A movie night was planned instead. And while we waited for the movie to start, I listened as choir members gave testimonies. They shared stories about depression, doubt, hard times, and praising their way through it all. Seeing prayers answered.
Things you don’t know about when you see them sing on a Sunday morning.
It made me realize that we all have our stories, and we all go through our trials and tribulations. But we sing, and we give thanks through it all.
And that’s why I’m so glad to be back in the choir loft.
“I don’t sing because I’m happy; I’m happy because I sing.”
– William James
