A Humble Gift of Song

For Sunday, December 11, 2011

I’d practiced the song and knew it well. It was a beloved solo of mine that accompanied by our church choir had been sung at Mass last year too. As with any piece of music that challenges me, I was intense in my focus and I controlled my breathing, my articulation and enunciation of words, and my tone. I was ready to perform. The piano began. I had four measures before my first note...

Et Misericordia. To hear this beautiful song by John Rutter, click the link below. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TUXgUQD27FQ

Despite my preparation and having calmly sung the first several pages of the song, halfway through, my legs began shaking. I didn’t feel nervous but, as I continued to sing, I realized just how intensely I was working to have proper breath control, clear pitch, effective dynamics, and proper enunciation. My legs shook but luckily my voice did not. I was aware of my singing yet also acutely aware of how my body was betraying me. I told my legs to “settle”. They did not. Still, I continued to sing. Passionately yet in control. I began to soar.

Music is the purest way I pray.

Finishing the song today, I glanced at Sandy and she gave me that “Thumbs up smile and nod”. I instinctively sat down. That’s when Emma nudged me in reminder that I was to start the choir’s line to receive communion. I stood up, walked to receive the blessed host then returned to my pew. Emma knelt down and whispered, “Way to forget about Communion, Mom”. I smirked. I’d lost myself for a moment there...

For the duration of the song I had been lifted away from my pew. I felt my legs shake but another part of me felt as if I were floating. The music took me up into the heaven of high notes, only to lower me gently into a cradle at the song’s end. I believe singing is the highest form of praise I can offer to God. That’s why my legs shake. I sing with such intent, with great focus of my mind that my body is left to tremble at the thought of what I am offering up, at what I am most humbled by, at the hope that my praise is received and understood.