Rediscovering: My Voice

I have gotten out of the habit of singing in the shower. It's something I stopped doing when I started apartment living back in '09. I've gotten out of the habit of singing and humming around the house, there's always so much other competing noise, I save my sanity by keeping silent. I've become an internalizer with my music - and often the music is gone altogether. I've missed the music that used to press so firmly against my heart, and I was looking for an door to open to allow some to find it's way back. The door was opened this last week.

I was given the opportunity to sing for my congregation.

The hubs accompanied me.

I chose a simple arrangement of Come Thou Fount for a Medium voice. No key changes, just the words at a 70 bpm rate with a few little interludes for the piano to bring the spirit of the song.

My voice is out of shape, I haven't been using it. I've lost over an octave from my range. I was straining on a C above middle and I was embarrassed and nervous for how the song would turn out at a 9:00 am meeting when I often struggle with hymn singing at that time. I was in constant prayer during my practices that the spirit would work through me and allow me to deliver my message: Here by Thy great help I've come. Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, Here's my heart, o take and seal it, seal it for Thy courts above.

I finally got the words down Saturday night before the performance, but I never had a practice where I felt like my voice was just taking the music where it needed to go. I felt like I was putting too much effort into everything.

The morning of the performance I woke early and started my water drinking, forced myself to awkwardly sing through my shower, and prodded myself to hum hymns as I made breakfast for my boys and did my hair and makeup.

The hubs and I played through the song twice and I felt confident that I would be able to hit my C's.

Sitting in sacrament meeting my nerves started to get a little jumpy. My stomach was slowly filling with butterflies. Again, constant prayer that all would go as He planned.

As I headed to the podium the nerves came in full force and the shaking began. I tried to keep it under control, not sure where to set my eyes while I was singing. Shawn started up with the accompaniment. It was go time.

All was off to a fine start. I was projecting fine, I hit my first C. I could hear the wavering in my voice but I was keeping it at bay. Then somewhere there in the first verse I hit a wall. I stopped, the tears came. I tried to get them under control and began the measure again. Through my tears.

Each time I would think I had it under control I would crash into another wave of emotion and 'sing' through broken sobs. Here by Thy great help I've come. *Sob*. Jesus sought me when a *sob* stranger. I was drowning in my emotion and love for my Savior and a congregation of  130+ people were watching me struggle through it.

I probably made it through 4 lines combined without sobbing, which was a small fraction of the song, but the spirit kept washing over me and I couldn't escape His touch.

When I was finally shaking safe in my pew, I slowly pulled myself together and sat through the rest of the meeting avoiding any one's gaze. My aunt (who I'd invited to hear me sing - not sob) leaned over and gave me a little hug of reassurance.

As soon as the closing prayer was said and the flood of people moved out of the chapel and into the hall I was again consumed, this time by love from the congregation. The sweet lady behind me telling me it was her favorite performance of the song; the friend who spoke before I sang telling me she wished to stand next to me and hold me through it; the gentleman in the hall who told me he felt as though I were a sister and embraced me while juggling child and bags; the woman who had scheduled my performance who felt the spirit; another friend who was touched. Based on the feedback there was nare a dry eye in the congregation, or a soul whom wasn't touched by the warm encircling of the spirit by whose waves I'd been ravaged so publicly.

A small part of me was lost in the sorrow of another botched, imperfect performance; another failed attempt to sing in public. But there was no support for those threads of thought. Each time I thought I had heard the last of the comments, there was another kind heart who was touched by my testimony of the Savior, ready to express gratitude for my performance. Each let me know that they shed tears along with me.

Once home from church, safe to allow myself to 'woe-is-me' for my performance, the texts started coming in. All the same and yet so different and touching in their own way. Tears sprang to my eyes each time another would come; I was touched that the Lord had allowed me - such an imperfect tool in his hands - to help build up the kingdom of God in such an imperfect way. After the texts were Facebook messages, and the next morning I logged onto my email to hear from another gentleman:

While you were singing, D&C 25:12 kept running through my mind

"For my soul delighteth in the song of the heart; yea, the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me..."

As much as any musical number I have ever listened to, your beautiful song felt like a pleading to our father in heaven.

And so I believe that the Lord's plan for my performance was fulfilled. His message was spread through that congregation like a rising tide and all present were pulled into the same love for the Savior that I felt. That is how the Lord will continue to work in our lives, in ways that seem so imperfect to our human perspectives, but are whole and perfect for our spirits. Sometimes we don't see the how it's all going to work or why things are the way they are, but the Lord sees it, and if we can just allow Him to  move through us, we can push His work of love and peace and grace forward and bring the world His truth.

The scripture that was shared with me touched my heart and I wanted to share it with you all. So I made another 8x10 print for anyone who wants one.

Download the 8x10 here.

My Story - Becoming Frugal

**As part of my blogging experience I wanted to work on my writing. I'm by no means an author, but enjoy telling stories and I hope that this blog can be a great forum for that.

Growing up my family didn't have a lot of money. As a young child my dad worked as a self-employed contractor and, though extremely talented, wasn't able to run a successful business for very many years. When my parents split in the fifth grade our budget got tighter as my mom provided for us - in conjunction with my dad's child support payments - on an at-home hairdresser's salary. We lived off of state assistance for some time, usually bought used clothing, and rarely ate out or went to activities that weren't free. I honestly didn't really even care, but I always knew my parents did.

Like for many, money was a point of conflict in our home. I used to lay in bed for hours at night asking the Lord to bless me with opportunities to take those burdens out of my home. I would dream of becoming a famous singer and leaving an envelope of cash on my mom's doorstep -- enough to pay off the house. Or to win the lottery and buy her a huge mansion somewhere with maids (so I wouldn't have to clean it ;)).

Once I was older I would often help my mom with her finances. As banks began to move toward an online presence I began to help my mom make the house payment (I wouldn't pay, just help with the computer stuff). When I began to drive I would routinely make her business deposits and know when to ask the teller to pay off the line-of-credit and know how much to transfer to savings. I would help my mom scan and fax receipts to Workforce Services and tally all her business and family expenditures for reporting to the state so that we could eat the following month.

I used to think that this was a burden no child should have to go through -- to see how little our family actual lived off; it wasn't fair that I had to carry the same stress that my mom packed around on a daily basis. It would make me sick shopping with my mom. She would want me to try things on at the store, or come home with things she thought I would like and I would actually feel physically ill and try to convince my mom that I didn't need anything or to return the items she did buy.

Now that I am a mother and wife I am so grateful for my own mother's vulnerability. I'm grateful that I was able to see the importance of saving, the importance of spending less than you earn, and the importance of being frugal.

Something that my church emphasizes is staying out of debt. In one of my favorite talks given by Elder Robert D. Hales or the Quorum of the 12 Apostles of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints said the following:

Of course some debt incurred for education, a modest home, or a basic automobile may be necessary to provide for a family. Unfortunately however, additional debt is incurred when we cannot control our wants and addictive impulses. And for both debt and addiction, the hopeful solution is the same—we must turn to the Lord and follow His commandments. We must want more than anything else to change our lives so that we can break the cycle of debt and our uncontrolled wants.

Now that I have an income that my family can easily live comfortably on I've found it harder and harder to be frugal. I like nice things. I like to look nice. I like my home to to look beautiful and my boys and husband to have things they enjoy around them. I like having the tools I want to create things I want to create. But I don't need any of those things. The things I need are a happy family, a roof over my head, food to nourish mine and my family's bodies, etc.

There are so many other things I want to say in this post, but I think I'm going to wrap it up with some more of Elder Hales' talk:

How then do we avoid and overcome the patterns of debt and addiction to temporal, worldly things? May I share with you two lessons in provident living that can help each of us. These lessons, along with many other important lessons of my life, were taught to me by my wife and eternal companion. These lessons were learned at two different times in our marriage—both on occasions when I wanted to buy her a special gift.

The first lesson was learned when we were newly married and had very little money. I was in the air force, and we had missed Christmas together. I was on assignment overseas. When I got home, I saw a beautiful dress in a store window and suggested to my wife that if she liked it, we would buy it. Mary went into the dressing room of the store. After a moment the salesclerk came out, brushed by me, and returned the dress to its place in the store window. As we left the store, I asked, “What happened?” She replied, “It was a beautiful dress, but we can’t afford it!” Those words went straight to my heart. I have learned that the three most loving words are “I love you,” and the four most caring words for those we love are “We can’t afford it.” 

The second lesson was learned several years later when we were more financially secure. Our wedding anniversary was approaching, and I wanted to buy Mary a fancy coat to show my love and appreciation for our many happy years together. When I asked what she thought of the coat I had in mind, she replied with words that again penetrated my heart and mind. “Where would I wear it?” she asked. (At the time she was a ward Relief Society president helping to minister to needy families.)

Then she taught me an unforgettable lesson. She looked me in the eyes and sweetly asked, “Are you buying this for me or for you?” In other words, she was asking, “Is the purpose of this gift to show your love for me or to show me that you are a good provider or to prove something to the world?” I pondered her question and realized I was thinking less about her and our family and more about me.

After that we had a serious, life-changing discussion about provident living, and both of us agreed that our money would be better spent in paying down our home mortgage and adding to our children’s education fund.These two lessons are the essence of provident living. When faced with the choice to buy, consume, or engage in worldly things and activities, we all need to learn to say to one another, “We can’t afford it, even though we want it!” or “We can afford it, but we don’t need it—and we really don’t even want it!”

Those two lines, more than any others, are what I use to remind myself. Last year I taped it to my front door to remind myself every time I left the house of what was most important. And so I thought I'd try and make a printable for you! If there is a color that you'd prefer over purple (my favorite...) that you'd like to match your house let me know! I can make them in any color!

 

Just follow the links to save them and/or print them off from Google Drive:

Can't Afford It jpg|pdf

Don't Need It jpg|pdf