Tuesday, August 4, 2009


I am not a great singer.

My lungs are the size of your average little yellow canary's, so while singing, I need to take a breath every three notes or so - sort on interrupts the flow of any song.

My voice keeps getting lower and lower - but only lower, so my range now is about an octave and a half... on good days. I can't even reach mid-range alto notes anymore.

But I do know how to read music - I can hit a note fairly close to the written one four times out of five - and I am getting comfortable singing the tenor part.

So I can get along with my pathetic voice when I sing with a choir... a large choir.

But when I was asked to sing with a small group for a friend's son's funeral, I couldn't say no. Well, I could say no, and perhaps I should said now, but I'm glad now that I didn't.

We practiced this afternoon, and if we can all get through the song without crying, it's gonna sound great.

Where can I turn for peace,
Where is my solace?
When other sources cease to make me whole?

When with a wounded heart,
anger, or malice,
I draw myself apart searching my soul.

Where, when my aching grows,
Where, when I languish,
Where, in my need to know, where can I run?

Where is the quiet hand
to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand?

He, only One.

He answers privately,
Reaches my reaching in my Gethsemane,
Savior and Friend.

Gentle the peace he finds
for my beseeching.
Constant he is and kind,
Love without end.

Constant he is, and kind,
Love without end.

Wish me luck.


Kelsi said...

Good luck! I can't hear it in my head, but the words are beautiful.