“Hey. Don’t say too much. You write well. I don’t want you to make me look bad.”
My college roommate and long time friend recently had her wedding and sang at her reception. Her voice is to be envied, for sure. I wasn’t thinking of her voice, though – my mind was on her ovaries. The chutzpah she had to share her feelings in song was what I was really envying. Could I do that?
Then I remembered.
I’m getting married. My ovaries are crazy huge.
Why else would I sign up for a race where the only God-ordained finish is someone’s death? I don’t get to write a post-nuptial report unless I am mourning the loss of my best friend! Pretty sure WordPress doesn’t work from heaven if I go first. I shall do updates from the course, of course, of this ultra in which speed is not of the essence.
This is one of those things that I have to do because I only have one chance to do it and I do not want regret being a punk. My singing is my preface to the words I will say to Adonis tomorrow.
I knew I had to sing to you today. I knew I had to do it because of the promises I am making to you. I am promising to take risks with you and for you. I am promising to give you my absolute best, however imperfect. I am promising to find and focus on the beauty in our now collaborative effort.
How remarkable is it that I am standing before you, the one whom my soul loves. I am so thankful that God has brought you to me. You help me to be strong and courageous. I know you are the one for me because I understand how God loves me better than I did before. You reflect His love and my life is now warmer than I ever could have imagined.
I sang that I was lost, now I’m free. Because of you, I feel free to trust in God more than I have. I am free to love in ways I did not know I could. I am free to share myself and become one with you. Thank you for pointing me to the true source of that freedom. May I love, honor and cherish you for all my life.
Here we go!
Most civilians know how stressful music making situations can be. By civilians I am referring to amateur musicians, of course. I say amateur musicians (as opposed to professional) because all of us have musical experience. There is not one person who does not listen to music and analyze it. We sing along, even when it is by ourselves. Only
a complete asshole a very unsure person wouldn’t participate in a communal happy birthday, right? Professional musicians just have the ability to express their tastes and preferences with a greater degree of specificity.
Das right. I’m fancy. But nobody ever thinks of the perils of being fancy, least of all Iggy.
So I’m in church last week (this triathlete loves Jesus) and we’re worshipping the Lord in song. I must confess – this is my least favorite part of the church service. “But Lady J,” you say. “This makes no sense. You love music. You love Jesus. Music + Jesus = winning, right?” Only when done my way, silly billy. I love singing my favorite hymns on my bike. I love playing through them early mornings as I have tea and (not so) quiet time with The Lord. Meanwhile, this choir and worship leader are up there, singing songs that I may not know, invariably in keys that are uncomfortable for my voice.
“Still,” you insist. “You are a trained musician. Your voice cannot be that bad.” Please. When did I say my voice was bad? It’s just not the best it can be because I have not rehearsed the songs and the worship leader was not considerate enough to contact me regarding an appropriate key. Some
“So, what you’re really saying is that the talent with which God has blessed you – you’re allowing your knowledge to get in the way of thanking Him for it.”
It’s not as though I am embarrassed of my voice, like others often are. Hell, I’d have to care about the opinions of those around me in church to be at that point. In truth, that kind of concern would probably be a step forward for me. My perfectionism is manifesting itself yet again. God, I want to give you my best. I hate when my technique is wrong. I hate when I yawn as I’m singing praises. But Christ’s death on the cross was probably not to pay for all the off key singing.
I’m sure it didn’t help, though.