During much of this pandemic, I've consciously chosen to shut off the emotional connection I have to the Tabernacle Choir music itself--a connection I used to both thrive upon and count on to lift me up. The reason for severing that connection stemmed from an instinctive need to protect myself. A protection against the pain and disappointment of not being able to sing with the Choir right now. I thought that if I really let everything in--let the music envelop me--I'd just end up in a puddle of tears.
That said, I have been watching Music & the Spoken Word every Sunday morning. It seems an odd thing to do for someone wanting to distance themselves from the music. But I think watching the broadcast helps maintain a different kind of connection that I actually want to keep--a connection to the Choir itself that reminds me it still exists and I'm still a part of it. What's tricky is watching the broadcast while keeping my heart closed. I've been successful at doing that, until today.
But backing up just a bit to earlier this week. I was in my car and feeling a bit low and was trying to think what would lift my spirits. My mind wandered to Choir since it was Thursday night (normal rehearsal night) and I finally thought "What the heck...I'm just going to listen to Tab Choir music and let me emotions go where they go!"
So I did.
And little by little my heart opened up. I even started singing along and remembering how it felt to perform. I thought about the lyrics I was singing and how applicable they were. And even though the pain came too, it was overshadowed by the joy and hope contained in the music. Tears flooded my eyes and I realized that this music I had originally performed for others, was also for me, too. Letting it all in had been the right call.
As I pondered on all of this later, feeling grateful for the experience, a part of me continued to feel really ashamed that any one thing (like the choir) was so integral to my happiness. But in all honestly, I think my missing it so much has been amplified by the reality we're currently living in. One where we are all social distanced from each other; where connections have been broken; where uncertainty abounds; where political strife dominates; and where it's hard to hold onto things.
In the end, I concluded that it was OK to miss choir. So what if I miss it a lot? God has put it into my life for multiple reasons, and while uplifting others through my service is one of them, another one is to uplift me. I need it right now. And in the absence of rehearsing and performing, at least I have plenty of music to listen to--plenty of music to let in.
So as I watched and listened to the broadcast this morning, I took down my defenses and envisioned myself back at the Tabernacle, sitting next to Ben and Wes (who I was actually standing by today), and singing beautiful music. I let the emotions back in and I didn't let go. And it was great.
Until next time, God be with you.
No comments:
Post a Comment