Adventures in Church Choir Directing

It is 10 days until Easter.  

I struggle with keeping things fresh with my choir.  At almost age 52, I'm actually one of the freshest of us there.  

David was supposed to be here to help me (and be my sound engineer), and we were going to "Rule The World" together.  I looked forward to introducing him to my church family, something he wasn't quite sure he understood, and to having someone in the tech deck who, as the Pastor put it, "got me."

They are a wonderful, loving, caring group of people who encourage me most of the time and put up with my expectations of choral greatness.  When my dad passed away in 2007, these people were my strength and singing was my outlet for grief.

When David died in December, they were all there again, telling me how much they loved me and allowing me my all-encompassing grief for a few weeks.

But I think I've done it again.  I've gotten my hopes up, raised my expectations too high and fear I am inadequate to the task of being the girl in charge.

I struggle with so many things in my life - the grief, the physical and mental exhaustion of trying to help keep some stability in my grandchildren's lives, the endless hours sitting at a desk doing nothing because I've already done it all before 10 am.

So when someone tonight told me that everyone was going to be looking at me on Easter, I simply stopped.

I was so excited about this music that I picked, and they were doing their best to learn it and make it sound like the real thing instead of a small church choir.  If David had been here, he would have put his wonderful ear, his instant recognition of what needed to be done, and his fingers to work on the sound board to make it sound great.

But everyone is going to be looking at me on Easter.

I am trying very hard to be my own champion since David is gone now.  Or, actually, I'm trying very hard to allow God to be my champion, which is what I should have been doing in the first place.

I don't want them to look at me at Easter.  I want them to look at God.  

I was hoping the music would allow that, bring the people to Him and Him to the people.  It's part of the reason why I accepted the choir director's position.

Meanwhile, I try to give the choir the chance to sing and do it well, and some nights are harder than others, but tonight everybody was looking at me.  

I love performing.  I love teaching.  I love directing.  I am excited by every new shiny thing that I can do or say or sing. 

But I don't want everyone to look at me.