A True Story
A few days ago I posted a blog on the health merits of singing. Research proves that singing is very beneficial for people. Later that same day, a neighbor and I were discussing how we felt that we were not talented enough to sing in church. I recalled an incident from my childhood that pertained to our lack of singing talent.
When I was in the fifth grade, my class had music lessons several times a week. One day when I was in music class, the teacher asked for a volunteer to sing one of the simple little ditties we regularly sang. When I raised my hand to volunteer, the teacher said, “Isn’t it wonderful that Hope Harder who has the worst singing voice in this whole class, is always the first one to volunteer!”
I couldn’t believe my ears! I was absolutely crushed that I had the worst voice in the whole class. I was so heartbroken and embarrassed that I couldn’t sing! I just stood in front of the class with tears streaming down my face! Finally I was allowed to sit down! I never sang again for five years. My parents couldn’t get me to sing in church or sing the National Anthem or anything!
Years later I read a devotional in a national devotional magazine. In it the author (whose name I cannot recall) wrote that people drove across our country to see the Giant Redwood trees but no one ever realized that the giant Redwoods wouldn’t have survived for centuries if they had not been nourished by the small underbrush of plant vegetation that grew at the foot of the giant redwoods. No one drove to see the underbrush just as no one realized the importance of the myriads of unmelodic voices that made up church choirs and supported the talented voices of the soloists in the choir. The author said choirs needed the small less talented voices just as the redwoods needed the underground brush under the giant redwoods. I loved that comparison and I started singing at church. God didn’t care if I was a soloist redwood or a squeaky underbrush. The main thing was that I was singing praise to my Savior and my Father in Heaven. Whether I was a redwood or a scrawny bush it didn’t matter. I was praising my Lord!
The next time you worry about not having a great voice with which to sing, think of the giant redwoods. It is far better to be a small bush in the redwood forest than not to be anything and it is much better to be a squeaky voice singing praises to Our Heavenly King than to be a mute little nothing who isn’t praising our King!
Keep singing, Friends!
Until we meet each other again, I remain your loving friend Hope