My Heart is Full



I hardly know where to begin, but I know that my heart is full... I will probably not make much sense... that is just the way it is. This post is full of nostalgia and amazement on the path of how I am where/what I am. And it is all connected to music.

Yesterday in church the sermon was on Prayer, as a matter of fact we are in a series on prayer. (One of my favorite topics as side from Worship when it comes to spiritual things.) This weeks prayer; singing your prayer. More often than any other type of prayer, this is the one that I connect to. Music has always been a part of my life. A huge part of my life. So it is a natural expression to pray in music. I have used music to dance and sing, to celebrate joy, to aid in grieving. I have a soundtrack. Sometimes that soundtrack is much holier than at other times, but... I have a soundtrack, and its a best seller (at least I know that I would buy it).

I don't think that music is any more powerful to me than anyone else. But I will say, that I have been blessed to be taught a love music that goes way beyond standard radio listening. To have been exposed to a wide range of music and love most all types of music (rap tends to be my exception). Childhood memories of music include children's choir, piano lessons, and sitting by the fire singing John Denver songs as a family while my Dad played guitar. There were dance lessons. There was a singing group that had gigs at Opryland. Music and childhood went hand and hand. Teenagedome was taken with singing duets with Shelley in the car to Indigo Girls, imbracing my Grungeness with flannel shirts and listening to Nirvana, NIN and Smashing Pumpkin. I added Marching Band to my music rep - that would be percussion and flute. Youth choir was a big deal to me, not only in my church but also in the regional audition choir (Impact - we sang in churches all over the state). I played flute in the church "band" (consistent of drum set, 2 flutes, and guitar). I sang in school choir (of course I did - I couldn't fit it into my schedule, so I would show up for morning chorus at 7:15 every morning before school started at 8). In college I auditioned for handbells on a whim - heard them once, never played - instant attachment, have been playing ever since in some way or another. I sang in choir and loved choir tours. And I joined a church and immediately joined their choir - that just seemed like a given.

And then it seemed my emersion into music was complete. I married a music major. I knew more music majors than psychology majors (still do it seems). He became a music minister. Again - how can a lay person know more about music than to have a 12 year relationship (11 in marriage) with someone so musical (not just musical, but a truly talented musican in love with music). I was the music minister's wife. And I embraced with this meant for me. Children's choir - I led that. Youth choir - I helped with that. Adult choir - I sang in that. Handbell choir - I played that. Solo singing - I sang that. These were never chores to me... I still do these even though I no longer have the title music minister's wife. All this to say, church music is a big part of my life.

I was complimented a month or so ago by my presence at church after the divorce. My continued involvement in choir and helping with the youth choir to this person was a surprise and an encouragement. Honestly, I didn't know where else I was supposed to be. When joyful or grieving... singing is where I should be. I have come full circle in grieving to joy when I have sat in the choir loft this past 3 years. I have driven alone to choir practices only to be surrounded by family, loved and blessed. I have sat in the choir loft sometimes unable to stop smiling, surrounded by the joy of others... In rehearsal I have laughed until sushed, and at other times have had to excuse myself to cry. Sometimes I am involved in ministering to other through music and sometimes it the music alone that ministers to me. There are times when I am overwhelmed by the worship experience and I can't quite bring myself to leave with the rest of the choir. So I stay and listen to the organ until the very last note.

*sigh* (a deep, contented, wonderful sigh) music.

When peace, like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say (sing),
It is well, it is well, with my soul.