Branching out

Since the loss of my grandmother and our friend, I have been trying to help my mom get involved in my church. She has been a few times, but never really got connected since she was my grandmothers; primary care giver. She has been spending lots of time going places, but not doing anything that will establish lasting relationships.

My church has an annual Christmas production that includes a drama, orchestra, and a choir. The choir stands in a set of risers shaped like a humongous Christmas tree complete with lights and greenery. It really is amazing. Since I was involved in the media production of the 'tree' last season I decided that I would always be a part of it, there is no going back...I can no longer be a mere spectator...I HAVE to be part of it. I intended to be on the media team. A position that is not noticed by the general public and one that I can just show up the week of production. Plus the added benefit of getting to play fun jokes on the poor souls who are in public view!

I came up with the idea of gently nudging my mom into joining the Choir and singing in the tree in hopes that she will get connected. SHE loves to sing AND has a nice voice. I called around to some friends from church and got urged to join so that she will. Unlike my mom, I don't have a nice voice and more accurately, I. CANNOT. SING. Not only is there no ability, but just the thought of speaking/singing in public makes me literally sick at my stomach. It was a real problem...deciding what I should do. It made perfect sense at the time to go with mom to choir and then conveniently worm out of it once she was comfortable. Besides, the media team would need me and bail me out!

Mom and I went to the choir kick off meeting. We were immediately swarmed with loving church members welcoming us to what turned out to be my own private torture chamber. I was asked what part I sing, Alto, bass, tenor, or soprano. WHAT??? How would I know that? Ironically one of the loving church members was the very person that urged me to come 'to get mom involved'. Yea right! It was days later before I realized that I was so busy trying to 'coerce' my momma that I was totally oblivious to the fact that I was getting coerced!

I stood outside the door to the choir room thinking I can’t make my self go in there, I CANNOT do this. But with someone's slight pushing I made my way in...BEHIND my mom. After a few minutes of discussion we got our music and started to sing! SING at the kick off meeting. What is that all about? I was already having internal dry heaves, well not really but it sure felt like it. Since I was sooo clueless and didn't know what part I should sing I was ushered to sit with a seasoned member of our worship band. That helped...NOT. She has an incredible voice and they put me by her?! I don't know if I feel worse for me...or for her. I think they missed the ‘I am gonna bail soon’ memo and totally are not on board with my not so bright idea! I was immediately made to feel part of the team and THE VOICE next to me was gracious enough to direct me to the right pages every so often. Not only can I not sing...but I also can’t read music. I didn't even know there was anything to it. Even if I could have read the music, it would be much help without knowing what part I should read and then sing. I generally stayed a few pages behind, but lived thru the evening...but only barely.

The following Sunday I spoke to the media team to let them know how I had been at choir practice. I didn't even get to the end of my 'oh, what to do' sentence when I heard the most awful, dreaded words of a lifetime...OK!

OK?...OK? The media team also missed the bail me out memo.

I am going with plan B (lip syncing). Pray for me…no, pray for the audience.

Filling the branches - Kim