Meant

I am a big believer in the "meant to be" concepts of life. I believe that God has a plan for us, or at least He has plans for us if not one all-consuming plan, and that life goes along rightly, works out neater, and feels better when you go along with it, whatever it may be.

Often times I've found that His plans for me don't make sense. Why stop--almost compulsively--to right a tipped-over bike? Why stop at the grocery store now, when I'd meant to head straight home? Why send a rather scary email (the kind you wish you could click unsend after sending) or, well, post a very personal blog post?

I believe--and feel it has been proven for me many times--that these sometimes meaningless (or terrifying) inspirations are a step onto a greater path than I would have been able to find on my own. Not all of them have had a clear outcome, but the biggest and scariest ones certainly have. The leaps-of-faith have always been met with a nice soft place to land and a neatly tied up "Ohhh, so that's why!" somewhere (sometimes years) down the road. He has never let me down, and I don't expect He ever will.

In San Diego, I was called jointly with Steve to be a pianist at church, for the primary kids. Apparently the bishopric didn't know that I don't play much more piano than a mean rendition of Chopsticks and a little bit of half-ad-libbed Heart and Soul. Not being one to turn down a calling (I'm a believer that they are inspired), I said sure, figuring I would be able to pick up piano enough to play for the primary. With a brand-new Gracie and a complicated living situation that didn't allow me to practice during the day, I gave up pretty quickly and Steve took over full-time while I got moved to teach the Beehive girls.

Then we moved to North Carolina.

Lo and behold, about three weeks ago we got called in to meet with a member of the bishopric. Brother Hiatt lead off with a simple question:

"So... what kind of musical talent do you have?"

Dumbfounded, I stood there for a moment searching for any space in which I had enough musical talent--or experience--to speak of. Finally I told him, "None, really." Then I looked at Steve. "Do I?"

I wish I could say that Steve came up with dozens of things, but the fact of it is, my musical skills pretty much end at singing in the shower. I played clarinet in high school, but that has faded away--and I never really learned to read music properly. I like music, but I am not a musician.

So then, a little sheepish, he asked me if I would serve as the Music Chairperson for our ward. Not too bad--all I have to do, really, is a lot of coordinating, something I think I'll enjoy. I'll have to scout out the talent in the ward and arrange for maybe one special performance per month, and help with other musical things as necessary.

And then he dropped the bomb.

"We'd also like to ask you to direct the choir through December."

I have never directed a choir. Remember how I can't read music? Interesting twist! And let's top it off with the fact that there was no choir! They'd been completely disbanded some months ago. So my challenge was in about six or seven weeks to put together a choir, come up with music, and figure out how to lead them.

Enter the grace of our Heavenly Father.

I felt peace about it--even excitement. I got a good number of sign-ups, and for our first two weeks of practice have been blown away with how kind and patient everyone has been, how sweet and understanding, and how lovely they all sound.

Today I woke up panicked. This week has been a little overwhelming, and I just suddenly started thinking that holy cow, I can't direct a choir on top of everything else. And then they called a choir director, and I thought, Hooray! Home free!

Twist?

She can't direct until January.

Which leaves one person to direct for Christmas. (Me. Surprise!)

So this afternoon I'm feeling good, better, excited and surprisingly confident. When I stand up there conducting I know it must be God working through me, bringing these beautiful voices together. Leading my hands, helping me keep beat, guiding me with what to say and how to help them improve. I have never had a calling where I felt so completely out of my element, and yet it goes along just fine. Sometimes one of the choir members helps me find my pacing, and she just smiles at me like we're all in this together. Because we really are. And clearly, for some reason or another, I am meant to be more involved in music.

I'm curious to see what that reason might be. :)