The past three days have just been exhausting…and good. Very good.I sang in the choir during each of our church’s five services during the weekend – one on Good Friday, one on Saturday night, three on Sunday morning.
For those of you keeping track, that’s two more days and three more services than a normal weekend.
By the time the preacher clock on the back wall of our sanctuary read 12:20 yesterday, I was TIRED. And please, to get the full effect, hear that just how I’m saying it: “TAHHHHRRRRD.”
And I’m not just talking about my feet. Although, they weren’t feeling good, I’ll tell you that. But thankfully, my choice to wear flats on Sunday paid off. Hey – when you’ve got cute skirt and heels and oh yeah, pain, on one hand and boring pants and um, less pain, on the other, what are YOU going to choose?
My voice was also feeling the strain of singing so much, as was my head. I felt like I’d plain sung my FACE off!
But the most overwhelming feeling I had was an emotional exhaustion. Going from singing serious, somber Good Friday songs to singing high-energy, shout-from-the-rooftops, clap your hands if you’re so inclined (and don’t be mistaken, I am almost NEVER so inclined) resurrection praises – well, that takes it out of a person!
It was a good tired, though. I reflected, I thanked, I praised, I cried, I sang, I laughed. And then we went home, ate a way-more-food-than-any-family-needs lunch with my parents and some new friends from church. And it was good.
(And then it was naptime. And that, also, was good.)
