Last Sunday, our choir sang, “The King of Love My Shepherd Is.” It’s a beautiful song, and this was the second time we sang it. When we did it two years ago, I didn’t like the song much. It was slow and difficult. And I got out of breath every time we did it. But this time, the notes and breathing patterns came a little easier, and I was able to appreciate the simple, yet stunning, beauty of the words and harmonies.[In case you’re wondering, our choir called this song, “The Yoda Song.” You know, because silly title, it has.]
I’ve been in several church and school choirs, including Swing Choir in high school. I confess, I got out of most the dance routines by serving as the accompanist. But play a little Beach Boys tune, and I just might find myself walking in a square and whipping out jazz hands.
But I digress. My point today is that the church choir I sing with now is my favorite one of all. It’s full of talented people, and it’s led by a gifted and God-focused director. I’m thankful for “the best 90 minutes of my week,” as Brett (our director) calls it. I’m thankful for choir.
Here’s a sample of the song we sang last weekend. Imagine it with less (lots less) flute and less Mormon Tabernacle-ness.
Are you involved in any church ministries? Have you ever sung in a choir? Am I the only person who really dislikes the flute?
