First off the choir practice, oooh the choir practice.
After hearing about Elder Cook coming in two weeks, and hearing the plea for people to join the last minute choir (and I'm a sucker for pleas), I thought I would do it. Afterall, I was the music leader for the children for over a year and sang my guts out all the time. Sure it was embarrassing, but oh well. I'm brave, I can do new things. How bad can it be?
Well. A bit like going to a greek class and trying to fake like you know greek. And sadly since these dang Mormons are so friendly I couldn't just hide in the corner, but everyone kept greeting me and telling me how glad they were to see me. Seriously every time someone talked to me I just wanted to cry.
"I didn't know you sing?"
"I don't. Think anyone will notice?"
As soon as I got there, I knew I was in trouble. Like bad.
First off, it wasn't like lets go sing a hymn. You had to sign in. Then you had to separate in parts.
"Crap, what part am I?" I thought. Well, knew I couldn't do much more than the melody so figured I better be soprano.
Well, so after I tried to find a seat after all were taken, yet another sign I should have just run out of the building, I sang with the sopranos. Oh I wanted to cry. Seriously I almost did. A couple of times. It was painful. But I didn't want to be a 31 year old sissy so I just stuck it out. Taking a greek class and faking some greek.
But after that first note I knew something.
Crap, not a soprano. Like at all. Super high.
But can't read notes well enough to be an alto let along follow along, and there was no way I was moving so I just channeled my inner princess and kept thinking, "Sing quiet sing quiet sing quiet like a pretty princess oh my heck this is high, oops that note was off...sing quiet sing quiet like a pretty pretty princess and mouth when I have to and maybe I will get through this".
So, I tried to make myself comfortable. Do something I am good at, which is make friends. So I turn on my friendly self. Lets focus on my positives.
"Hi, I'm Brooke." I say to the girl next to me.
"I'm sorry." (did she think I said broke?)
"No, my name is Brooke"
This is not going well.
So I turn to my other side, which is fortunately my good friend so I suckered into going with me. I figure I'll just do what she does. Until she started singing.
"Crap! She can sing. I'm sitting next to freaking Ariel!" I thought to myself. Or is she Belle? Seriously sitting next to a disney princess incarnate which is fitting since her husband is a disney animator. Maybe thats why he married her?
So as the seriously professional choir director is telling me foreign words like "formata" and "Bite the Apple" to help my tone (what is tone?). The guy obviously knew what he was doing, seriously he was a pro. Masterclass. I am trying to just blend in. Channeling my inner pretty princess as I softly sing this super high notes. Except for those times when I hit the wrong note or ended later than others...boy that is embarrassing.
"This is good for me" I thought. Getting out of my box. That is always good right? At least it was a song I know.
"Do you feel like you want to drop a measure too?" the girl next to me asks.
"Yes." (what the heck is she talking about is what I'm really thinking)
Meanwhile we are seeing the song about ten times over, focusing and working on different areas. The fancy choir director is talking about holding notes long and people near me are taking out their pencils to make adjustments on their music sheets. So I take my pencil out too. To take some notes. Because as painful as this choir practice was, at least it made for good blog fodder, and I didn't want to forget how horrible this was. More painful than the shot I got today, Even yelped in pain cause Jason is still not a real nurse after over three years of doing this. But choir practice had that beat.
So how am I going to get out of this is what I start to think once I subdue the tears. But I am no quitter. We are in trouble.
But then that fancy ole' choir director stops us singing. And tells us its all fine and dandy (okay, he didn't say it like that, much more diplomatic) that we can sing this song better than the Mo Tab (figure that one out), but we need the feeling behind the song. We need a testimony of the song. So he asks us, "What are you going to do in the next two weeks to get a testimony of this song?"
Well, I found it. Something I can do. I can gain a testimony of that song.
I won't be singing in two weeks with the choir (hoping they won't miss me too much), because you have to sit up there the whole time and Jason wouldn't love handling all four kids for an hour and half in church--I have an out.
But I will be with you in spirit. With that song in my heart.
I was much relived to find out Jason didn't have a clue if he was a Tenor, a Baritone or a Bass either. We are twins.
Now I'm off to work on my song. See, I knew there was something good about going to choir practice. Besides having much more respect for talented singing people.
Have I done any good in the world today?
Have I helped anyone in need?
Have I cheered up the sad,
and made someone feel glad?
If not I have failed indeed.
Has anyone's burden been lighter today
because I was willing to share?
Have the sick and the weary
been helped on their way?
When they needed my help was I there?
Then wake up and do something more
than dream of your mansion above.
Doing good is a pleasure,
a joy beyond measure,
a blessing of duty and love.
-Will L. Thompson