I love to sing. And I love my church. So, my mid-week church choir rehearsals are a nice break from the busy work week.
When you think of a church choir, don’t you just want to picture this? Yeah, not so much at my church. We are a bunch of suburban white people who move and sing like a bunch of suburban white people. Except for the one guy who moves SO much he looks like he’s convulsing. (Bless his heart though, at least he tries.)
We can sing a Chris Tomlin song with the best of them. But sometimes I wonder who our music minister thinks we are when he makes our song selections. At rehearsal this week, I picked up a CD of the music we’re singing next month and this is our big number:
For real? Look at those moves! I mean, you can’t not move to that song, right? Therein lies the problem. In our choir, the Spirit only moves us to sing precisely what is written in the music and to clap only when specifically told we must clap—and even then it's usually awkward. We practically have to script the occasional "amen" or "hallelujah."
Needless to say, this will be interesting. The song is great and we have a great guest soloist joining us who definitely knows how to bring it, but I'm a little unsure of whether or not my fellow singers and I will be able to dig deep enough into our souls to pull this one off. We'll sure have fun trying though!