I found myself roped into doing the choir at church. It kind of became a “couldn’t find the gumption to say no” to the choir director, so I dragged my sorry bum to choir one day a few months ago and to the chagrin of my pride, I realized just how much I had missed participating in music.
I did music a lot in high school. Like, a lot a lot. It was basically my life. But when I got to college, I essentially quit. I still play the piano occasionally, but I didn’t sing in any choirs and I abandoned the trumpet with a gleeful fervor. I was hopelessly out-performed in every sphere at BYU in regards to music, so I just didn’t try.
But we were singing a Handel song for Christmas in our ward choir this year. And I love singing Handel. The bouncing, moving, intertwining lines, provide the right amount of challenge and satisfaction for me, and as I learned the piece and sang I found myself filled. Filled with the Spirit, but also filled with satisfaction that while I might not be a high caliber musician, I am at least proficient. And with my proficiency and a challenge appropriate to my skill, I can enjoy music for what I can do with it instead of worrying about what I can’t.
Music can be peaceful and beautiful. It can be many other things as well, but I’ve found that as I sing in the ward choir I am filled with peace and entranced by the beauty of the pieces we sing.
It’s a nice reminder that I can love music, and that it can be fulfilling to me even though I may never excel at it. That what I can do is enough if it brings me joy and fills my heart.