Counting My Blessings

Illustrations from
My Picture Book of Songs
by
Alene Dalton, Myriel Ashton, Erla Young

The post about my talk at BYU Women's Conference is eluding me. I want to tell you all about it in some light-hearted way, (and I will in the next few weeks) but right now I'm still in a daze.

I didn't fall off the stage, and I didn't sneeze messily into the microphone. I think I connected. Nobody booed, or walked out and I didn't have a hot flash. I was blessed! I got help from heaven.

Five months is a long time to prepare for a 25-minute presentation. I wrote and re-wrote my speech until I was sick of it. In the days before the conference I practiced out loud and it sounded boring and flat. Standing at the podium I looked out and saw over 600 faces seeking spiritual and emotional enlightenment, and I was talking about blogging! It all seemed a little surreal.

But in the crowd I saw faces of friends and family who had confidence in me. I felt a spiritual burst of enthusiasm for my topic, and reassurance that it was worth while. Though I was standing there alone, I had a lot of back-up!

The Choir

by Marty, 1983.

I stepped alone upon the stage to sing my melody;
The audience seemed massive as they gazed expectantly.
My coach, the music Master, saw me clasp my sweaty palm;
"Watch my baton," he whispered, "I'll lead you. Now be calm."

Liltingly the tune began. I heard my intro start,
And then the only beat I heard was coming from my heart.
A tremor shook my untrained voice...the crowd could sense my fear,
"I'm not a soloist," I thought. "What am I doing here?"

And then, among my listeners I saw a loving face.
He gave a wink, I felt his trust, his smile was an embrace.
Self confidence returned, and I fancied that his voice
Joined mine and a duet emerged. I inwardly rejoiced.

Harmonizing voices, yet only mine was heard.
The Master alone could understand the miracle that occurred.
Silvery, another's song rang out to join our air.
A little child's carol was an answer to my prayer.

I visualized our trio, yet watched the Master's wand
As he pointed to a sister, and others just beyond.
In unison they carried me, and the chorus reached a crest.
Their unheard voices soared to lift mine to it's best.

And so each soloist in turn steps out to sing alone,
With eyes upon the Master to whom each note is known.
The tune is new, the words are old, with power to inspire,
When written by the Master, and accompanied by the choir.

Who is in your choir?