Life is like choir practice

We all take our places on the risers. 

The sopranos and altos and tenors all in their respective places. Sorted by the range of our voices. The director taps a stick on the metal music stand and announces it’s time to get started. The music is familiar though we haven’t sung it near enough to be able to get all our parts right.

I struggle to find my part. Was I supposed to be doing harmony? I can’t remember. I listen to the person next to me, hoping to hear the notes, but instead she answers her cell phone and tells her husband that she’ll grab dinner on her way home.

Oh yeah. Dinner. What am I going to feed my family tonight?

I look down to the front row just in time to see my youngest grab a pencil out of her sister’s hand and an argument ensues. My teeth clench together and my eyes narrow. I send threats telepathically until one of them looks up and sees my face. I give them the “mom” look and shake my head twice.

Meanwhile, around me, the song continues. Where was I? I listen for a moment to find my place. The melody jumps out and I grab it before it’s gone again. Maybe I can work out the harmony if I sing the melody for a bit.

I start to hear the parts and something pinches me. I look down to the front row and count heads. My three are still there. And there it is again. Ouch! I scan the other faces in the choir. Is it just me or does someone else feel that too? Who’s under the risers being a little bugger?

And then “she” starts singing. It’s unmistakable. Her voice almost takes over the whole choir. Pure and rich. Melodic and entrancing. How can I compete with that?

I question my place in the choir and wonder if I made a mistake. Maybe I should have volunteered to stuff bulletins.

Life is like choir practice. 

There are plenty of distractions and annoyances to keep my attention averted from the song. I get caught up in thinking that my part in the choir has something to do with my voice. But it isn’t about my voice. It is about my participation. But not just my participation. It’s all about my participation in the adoration.

In the midst of interference and trial I am asked, “And yet, will you praise Me?”

I joined the choir. I signed up to sing praise to the King of Kings. Currently, I find myself buried under the diversions and aggravations. I sing the notes from memory for the sake of singing. I hear myself belt out a wrong note so I stop singing altogether. I have forgotten that it’s not about my voice. It’s about my worship.

My job on earth is to learn to hear the melody of the Eternal Song and sing in adoration to the Creator.

Then the righteous will shine like the sun in the kingdom of their Father. 

Whoever has ears, let them hear. (Matt 13:43)



4 Responses to “Life is like choir practice”

  • Susan Says:

    Rebecca, you have just spoken to my heart! I have been struggling to decide if I should stay on the worship team, do they really need me, I don’t really have a good voice, etc…and I have found my answer! “That it’s not about my voice. It’s about my worship!”

    “My job on earth is to learn to hear the melody of the Eternal Song and sing in adoration to the Creator”

    Thanks for letting God use you!

  • Teddi Deppner Says:

    Enjoyed the metaphor. Got me thinking. Thanks, Rebecca!

  • Tammy Vanella Says:

    Oh you know this one resonated in my heart don’t you? Life is indeed like choir practice. I have sung many a bad notes in this life which caused me to go silent, to shirk into the back row and to just stop showing up. But God has taught me that the practice is not for me…it is for Him. Thanks for such a beautiful reminder. <3

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