meus animus est gauisus (My Soul is Happy)
My truest passion is choral music.
I love singing. I love piano. I love teaching both of those. I enjoy singing in a praise band. I love working with little kids, and reading, and cooking, and a whole host of other things.
But I have no passion [for any earthly thing] that compares to singing in a choir. A GOOD choir.
I have been in choir of some sort for as long as I can remember, starting in little kids' church choirs at Bethany. In 6th grade, I joined the Phoenix Children's Chorus, which built the foundation for this passion. In high school, I practically lived in the choir room. At 16, I left PCC and joined the Phoenix Symphony Chorus, and enjoyed being in a professional-level volunteer chorus, singing with the Symphony, under the best director I've known, Bob Moody. At ASU, I was in the women's chorus, which, while not on par with either PCC or TPSC, was still enjoyable.
Then came Southwestern. Not being a student there anymore, I can say this out loud - the choir was miserable. I hated almost every moment of it, and couldn't wait to get out, and this crushed a part of me, because choir played such a huge role in defining who I was. A part of my soul sickened. It really was like a canker; I had nothing good to say about it, no desire to go or really to be involved, and would spend the whole hour each day angry and impotent to change anything. So finally, I quit.
This year, I decided to try TPSC again. My audition was a few weeks ago, and went very well, and I was accepted. There have been some changes - Dr. Gregory Gentry is now the director, and we meet in a different church. But as I walked in and scanned the room, there were several familiar places. And - to my pleasant surprise - many actually remembered me!
Then we began to sing...and it all came back. A room full of people, all here because they want to be, no one just filling a major requirement, no one who can't read music. As I sang, I felt the sound of those hundred other voices resonating in my own chest, and my heart surged with the music. The richness of it overwhelmed me, and I was hard pressed to keep from tears. We read through the Gloria in Bruckner's Mass No.2 in E minor, a song of praise to God - and that's exactly what I was doing. I could not stop grinning like a fool - a very happy fool.
I've often sung the words "water to my soul" in praise songs, but rarely feel what they describe. Tonight's music was water to my soul, a re-opening and cleansing and refreshing, a resurgence of the passion that has lain dormant. And so, with all my heart, I sang, "Laudamus te! Benedicimus te! Adoramus te! Glorificamus te! Gratias agimus tibi propter magnam gloriam tuam. Domine Deus, Rex coelestis, Deus Pater omnipotens. Domine Fili unigenite, Jesu Christe."
(We praise Thee! We bless Thee! We worship Thee! We glorify Thee! Thanks we give to Thee because of Thy great glory. Lord God, King of heaven, God Father almighty. Lord Son only begotten, Jesus Christ.)
"It is good to give thanks to the LORD, and to sing praises to Your name, O Most High!" (Psalm 92:1)
I love singing. I love piano. I love teaching both of those. I enjoy singing in a praise band. I love working with little kids, and reading, and cooking, and a whole host of other things.
But I have no passion [for any earthly thing] that compares to singing in a choir. A GOOD choir.
I have been in choir of some sort for as long as I can remember, starting in little kids' church choirs at Bethany. In 6th grade, I joined the Phoenix Children's Chorus, which built the foundation for this passion. In high school, I practically lived in the choir room. At 16, I left PCC and joined the Phoenix Symphony Chorus, and enjoyed being in a professional-level volunteer chorus, singing with the Symphony, under the best director I've known, Bob Moody. At ASU, I was in the women's chorus, which, while not on par with either PCC or TPSC, was still enjoyable.
Then came Southwestern. Not being a student there anymore, I can say this out loud - the choir was miserable. I hated almost every moment of it, and couldn't wait to get out, and this crushed a part of me, because choir played such a huge role in defining who I was. A part of my soul sickened. It really was like a canker; I had nothing good to say about it, no desire to go or really to be involved, and would spend the whole hour each day angry and impotent to change anything. So finally, I quit.
This year, I decided to try TPSC again. My audition was a few weeks ago, and went very well, and I was accepted. There have been some changes - Dr. Gregory Gentry is now the director, and we meet in a different church. But as I walked in and scanned the room, there were several familiar places. And - to my pleasant surprise - many actually remembered me!
Then we began to sing...and it all came back. A room full of people, all here because they want to be, no one just filling a major requirement, no one who can't read music. As I sang, I felt the sound of those hundred other voices resonating in my own chest, and my heart surged with the music. The richness of it overwhelmed me, and I was hard pressed to keep from tears. We read through the Gloria in Bruckner's Mass No.2 in E minor, a song of praise to God - and that's exactly what I was doing. I could not stop grinning like a fool - a very happy fool.
I've often sung the words "water to my soul" in praise songs, but rarely feel what they describe. Tonight's music was water to my soul, a re-opening and cleansing and refreshing, a resurgence of the passion that has lain dormant. And so, with all my heart, I sang, "Laudamus te! Benedicimus te! Adoramus te! Glorificamus te! Gratias agimus tibi propter magnam gloriam tuam. Domine Deus, Rex coelestis, Deus Pater omnipotens. Domine Fili unigenite, Jesu Christe."
(We praise Thee! We bless Thee! We worship Thee! We glorify Thee! Thanks we give to Thee because of Thy great glory. Lord God, King of heaven, God Father almighty. Lord Son only begotten, Jesus Christ.)
"It is good to give thanks to the LORD, and to sing praises to Your name, O Most High!" (Psalm 92:1)
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