This weekend I sang in two different performances of “The Messiah.” One with Harvest Presbyterian Church in Medina and another with The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in Westlake. I thoroughly enjoyed each performance. The second was particularly special, however, because I was given the chance to sing two of my favorite arias from “The Messiah,” Come Unto Him, and I Know that my Redeemer Liveth. Being able to express my own testimony of the living Savior through Handel’s music was powerful. The feelings of the Spirit nearly overwhelmed me as I repeated over and over “I know the my Redeemer liveth.” I do know.

Afterwards a gentleman who is not a member of our congregation came up to talk to me. He works with the Baroque orchestra in Cleveland, Apollo’s Fire, and had come to hear our “Messiah” as a “warm up” to the week of “Messiah’s” Apollo’s Fire will be performing this week. He asked me if I’d be interested in singing with the group, (umm YESSS!!!) and took down my e-mail address and told me he’d give it to the director so she could set up an audition. But at the end of the conversation he referred to how radiant I was when I sang, joking that it must be my pregnancy. I said something about the joy that comes from singing truth, but I wasn’t able to fully express my feelings. Many people came up to tell me good job, and how impressed they were. While I appreciated their praise, it felt awkward. Yesterday was a special experience, my voice was not entirely my own. There was an angelic ease that came upon me, in answer to my prayer that my singing bring the spirit to those in attendance. The bright overtones were not only mine, they were a gift.

It’s been nearly six months since I’ve kept the rigid practice schedule that I maintained the six years previous as a conservatory student. Those six months have been filled with less practice and more contemplation on the gift and purpose of music in my life. I’ve found and become comfortable with the fact that I love to sing, but that I am not a “singer.” I received as much delight watching one of my own students successfully sing the mezzo-soprano arias last night, as I did performing myself.

Last night I sang not to receive any recognition of my own, but to give the gift of music and truth that has so abundantly filled my life. After years of being afraid to look into the eyes of the audience, lest I see critics, I could once again look sincerely from face to face without concern. Last night I regained the freedom, the joy, and the peace that I had lost.