Why I sing.

Saturday morning brought news that a terrible tragedy struck my extended family. My beloved Godparents, Aunt Helen and Uncle Doug, had been killed walking from their hotel in Georgia to a restaurant for dinner. Throughout the day, word was spread to family members far and wide and eventually their children posted on Facebook, giving us the ok to begin sharing condolences, memories, photos, grief.

I suspect that many of us are still in shock and will be for some time. We are spread all over the country so who is able to gather and when is unknown. While many of us are "alone" as we grieve, we are in good company and are never really alone. I know that when we gather, there will be singing.

My Dad comes from a family of 9 children, 8 who survived to adulthood. They did not have an easy life - many children, little money - raising a family in the 20's, 30's and 40's was difficult for so many. The stories that I love and remember center around the dinner table (there was always room for a friend even though money was scarce), the church (it was a central part of family life), and music.

music.

My Dad tells a story of being a very little boy with curly hair, sitting on the front steps in his Mama's hat, singing at the top of his lungs. He and his siblings sang in the church and school choirs through their growing up years. He and Helen (or Honey Anne as she was called) sang "A Bushel and a Peck" in a school talent show. They sang. Together.

As I was growing up, the extended family grew too and eventually there were 25 grandchildren. As one of the younger cousins, it was easy to get lost - Helen and Doug somehow managed to make me feel so loved and important. They reminded me that I belonged. The music continued. I can close my eyes to this day and picture my Dad and Helen singing "Morning Has Broken," harmonizing effortlessly. We camped together over the years in various places and with various combinations of the families. There was always singing around the fire. I learned my first "naughty" song at one of these fires. "My Father was a Fireman..." If you know the song, you'll get the joke. If you don't you'll have to ask me someday. As a little girl, I just listened to and sang along with the incredible harmonies created as the song progresses. As a 20-something with a husband and 2 children, we sang this again at a long awaited reunion in Wyoming. Jeff has never let me forget that I did not "get" the joke until that year! I can hear Helen and Doug's laughter as I remember the day.

Reunions and gatherings for weddings, funerals, graduations, were all excuses to have a family choir. You haven't heard the Table Grace sung until you hear my family sing it! I can see Helen singing "On Eagles Wings" with other family and friends at my wedding. Such treasured memories.

We made music. Although the gatherings are much further between and everyone shifts as my Dad's generation passes away and more Great-Grandchildren are added, we still do. A small handful of 100 or so members of this family make music for a living. For the rest it is simply a part of what we do and who we are. We sing.

This is why I sing. We sing to celebrate. We sing to pray. We sing to grieve and we sing to laugh.

With a family as large and spread out as mine is, it is inevitable that we have widely divergent views on religion and politics. We cross the spectrum and while we are interconnected by blood, there are times when the differences loom large.

Music is the thing that will pull us together time and again. When we are singing and creating harmony together, our differences fade away even for a moment. We are united as we create something magical.

I want every child to have this. I want every family to be able to connect with a silly or sacred song. We change the world when we sing. We make it better. Singing is free. I do the work I do because every family can be a musical family. It's not about perfection or talent or any of that. It's about simply doing it. Singing together.

"I will sing to the Lord as long as I live..." those words from "O Lord God" ring in my ears now. They are treasured words from my college years and have continued to bring me comfort and joy since then. Like my Aunt, my Dad, and so many members of my family, I will continue to sing as long as I live. I will continue to create opportunities for others to find their voice and sing. I will sing with babies. I will sing with grandfriends. I will sing in joy and in sorrow.

I will sing because it is what we do.

Rest in peace good and faithful servant.

Yesterday the world lost one of it's brightest lights. Not completely unexpected. When someone is 94 and has lived a full life, there is also a sense of celebration and thankfulness. Still, the news that Weston Noble passed away fills so many of us with sorrow.
Weston Noble. Director, mentor, teacher, guide, friend, guru, angel. The words to describe this great man go on and on. I've been reading the FB posts of so many friends and classmates who have been touched by his gentle soul. They have refreshed me. They have made me smile, laugh and cry. Sometimes all at the same time. The stories encompass musical moments, quiet conversations, teaching moments, and jokes. Mr. Noble was one of those special people who had the ability to make each of us feel as if we were the most important and loved person at that moment. Watching him conduct, was sometimes like looking at the face of God. You could not look away!
Many will talk of his skill as a conductor and teacher. The number of chorale conductors and music teachers, both professional and volunteer, that he has inspired and nurtured is truly mind boggling.
His faith in and love for God will also be mentioned. He spoke honestly and openly about his faith and his doubts - modeling for many of us how to do the same in an authentic way.
Many stories have recounted an individuals first interaction with Mr. Noble. A phone call as a prospective student. A personal postcard in the mail from THE Weston Noble. Singing for him as a H.S. student in a festival. The list goes on and on. No matter who you were he made you feel so special! As someone who was often mistaken for my sisters, the fact that he knew ME and cherished ME as one of his own was such powerful reinforcement of my worth as an individual.
I don't remember the first time I met him. He has always been in my life. My parents spoke of him often and we were introduced to the world of music at Luther College early on. I was not going to go to Luther. I wanted to strike out on my own rather than following in my sister's footsteps. In the end I only applied to Luther. I'm certain that my postcard from Weston and the desire to sing with him in Nordic outweighed any wish I had to find my own way.
Singing in Nordic Choir was like no other experience I had ever had or ever will have since. Every afternoon, 5 days a week, for 3 years, I would go with my peers to sing. But it wasn't just singing! Those hours were filled with prayer and meditation, laughter and joy. While we were perfecting notes, rhythms and dynamics, we were praising God and sending love into the world. I sporadically attending church through college, mostly because every afternoon I felt closer to God than I ever had. I was in "church" everyday!
We were introduced to Mountain Top experiences - those musical moments when you felt as if you were going to burst! The concerts (and even rehearsals) where so many of us cried as we sang were many. The emotion that Weston drew from us was as powerful as the music.
For many years after I graduated I was afraid to sing in another chorale - I was certain it would never be the same and it was as if those days were over. The days of Nordic were over, but the desire to sing again and create musical magic with others was strong. While the experiences of Nordic were so special and unique, singing again with others continues to bring me such joy! When we sing a piece I learned in my college years, the memories are sweet and every note is locked away in my memory ready to be shared again.
So much of what I learned about music, I learned from Weston, but more than that, I learned about love, faith, humility and kindness. I learned about quietly caring for the earth and it's people. This giant in the chorale world was also a humble servant. From picking up trash around campus, to quietly listening to and advising student after student about music, life, love, God, and on and on. The greatest lesson I learned from this man was two-fold - I was both the most important AND the least important person in the world. I was loved and cherished as an individual among a crowd of individuals who were equally loved and cherished - ALL of them regardless of color, gender, orientation, religion.
Thank you dear man and may your journey continue to be filled with joy as you lead the heavenly choirs of angels. May we do our best to take the lessons we've learned from you to bring joy, love, kindness, humility and music to the world.

stream of consciousness...

I've had so much in my head since I last wrote and I've been so reluctant to put it in "writing."  Good, bad, annoying, surprising, all of the above...  Sometimes I think if I could get into a routine of writing a little bit everyday that would be a good idea.  That would be great if I did well with routine!  I do know that some things are just better when they are scheduled and regular.  Writing is something that I just have to let burst out. My lack of follow through with routines has sometimes been a liability when it comes to raising kids.  We went through more "systems", tried more strategies etc.... They ALL worked..... When I actually followed through.
Right now I'm trying to set more routines for myself- since doing the Design Your Day coaching over the winter, I can see which ones are really useful to me.  The last month or so though I've been testing... Not doing the things I know are helpful.  Guess what?  I'm not working efficiently, I'm not sleeping well, and I'm crabby!
What I've maintained has been hot water and lemon in the am, and getting to the gym.  Until now.  No worries on the hot water and lemon, but I haven't been to the gym since Monday.  My knee is causing trouble and so I thought I should rest it.  What that means though is my routine is interrupted and I'm terrified that getting back into it will be tough.  It stuns me how such a small interruption to a routine can mess it all up.
I've been getting stronger, my clothes fit better, my energy was great and now I'm feeling old, achy, and sorry for myself.  WHICH IS RIDICULOUS!  So much of my headspace right now has been taken up by death.    I know right?  Where did THAT come from?
The older you get the more death touches you.  A few weeks ago, a lovely acquaintance passed away unexpectedly.  She was my age.  Within the same week, the wife of a friend passed away after a long battle with cancer. She was a brand new grandma.  This week, every time I go on facebook or into my email, I'm afraid that I will see the news that another friend who is fighting cancer (cancer SUCKS), has passed away.  No matter how sore or achy or crabby I am, someone else is fighting a much harder battle.
Thursday night I had a rehearsal for a concert I'm singing in this weekend.  I was sitting because my knee hurts, and was feeling a little petulant.  The words of one piece jumped up and slapped me-

"Why then should I be afraid? I shall die once again to rise an angel blest.  Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting; the soul that rises with us, our life's Star, hath had elsewhere it's setting."

Powerful words for sure, but what really created the emotional impact was the music.  Without the music they are lovely for sure, and maybe that's enough for some people.  But the music shoots those words right into your soul.  It's like an infusion of new blood~ the melody, harmony, rhythm, dissonance coursing through your veins recharging your spirit.
Last night we rehearsed again and a different piece moved me ~ all the works we are singing are about death and life and resurrection and the SOUL.

Music Feeds Our Souls.

This is why I feel so passionately about the work I do with little ones and families.  To be fed by the language of music, to get that infusion of new blood, you have to know it ~ we have to be immersed in it from the beginning of time... The language of music is primal and powerful, but if we allow the brains of our little ones to develop without it, those pathways in the brain will get filled up with other things leaving no room for music.  It's so easy though.  Sing, dance, play, sing some more.  Sing with your friends. Sing with your family.  Make music and allow it to fill your soul and hold your memories.

Music is life.

And On Earth, Peace

Peace

Love

Joy

Music...

It has been almost a week since I left home to visit my Alma Mater, Luther College, and see the yearly "Christmas at Luther" performance.  This year was the first time I attended since I was a Senior in December 1989.  25 years.  All I could think was "why has it taken me so long?"

Why this year?  My daughter Katy called in September from Luther, where she is a first year student, to tell us she had made the first year women's choir, Aurora.  As soon as I hung up the phone I got on-line and booked my ticket.  I'm pretty sure it was the most impulsive plane ticket I've ever purchased, but the idea of not seeing my daughter experience the magic that is music at Luther College was unacceptable.  I'm so glad I went, for so many reasons.

Seeing Katy walk onto the risers with her choir brought me to tears!  I knew the power of the musical experience to come and the thought that one of my children was going to be a part of such a powerful tradition was overwhelming to me.

Just hearing the choirs and being a participant in the evening (of course there were opportunities for the audience to sing as well!) would have been enough to fill my heart.  The music was exquisite~ the  CFL (Center for Faith and Life) was filled with light and love.  It was enough, but there was so much more.

As a mother who is slowly sending her children out into a world filled with hate and violence, with bitterness and fear, it would be easy to hold them tight, to not let them go.  We are surrounded by ignorance and snap judgments and all we hear about on the news is death and destruction.

The message of the concert recalled the angels' song from the Gospel of Luke:  "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace among people." (Luke 2:14)  The College President, Paula Carlson, noted in her introduction in the program that the theme was chosen to commemorate the Christmas Eve Truce of WWI, held 100 years ago on Christmas Eve.  "...close to 100,000 British and German soldiers on the war's western front in Europe made a temporary peace and celebrated Christmas together."  As they did then, we long for an end to war.  We long for peace and love to reign in our world.

And on Earth, Peace.

The theme of the concert.  Peace.  600 students at a small college in Decorah, Iowa singing songs of peace and love.  600 hundred young, hopeful, beautiful faces lifting their voices, creating some of the most beautiful harmonies together.  Are they all friends?  probably not.  Do they all like each other?  probably not.  But for the time they come together to create music, they are bound together in a powerful, intimate way, speaking a language that is universal.  You see, when we sing together (or play together) we cannot fight.

As the choirs began singing "Silent Night" in German, photographs of those German and British soldiers together on Christmas Eve were projected over the fresh faces of the choirs.  Young men in uniform, the same ages as the young men in their tuxedo's and robes, looked out of the pictures.  I could see my son and his friends in those faces.  The hall filled with the sounds of thousands of voices, the symphony and the organ.  All of us raising our voices together in a prayer for peace.

The music filled my heart, but the students and their passion fed my soul.  These are the ones who can change the world.  In the church we sometimes say we are one generation from extinction.  As a world, we are one generation from extinction.  Lucky for us that children are wise and each generation seems to find a way to pull us out of the depths.  I am hopeful that this generation, these young men and women will find the strength and the wisdom to create a better world than they have inherited.  They have seen the repercussions of greed and unlimited power.  As a quote I saw the other day noted, I hope that rather than accepting what they cannot change, they find the strength to change what they cannot accept.

I know that Luther College is a special place, but I also know that there are many "Luther Colleges" in the world.  I find great hope in the idea that the children we have raised just might be strong enough to re-create a world where we can all live together in peace.  It's a tall order, but if the 600 students performing last weekend in the CFL are any indication, there may be hope for us all yet.

The words of the hymn "O Day of Peace" will be my prayer for Advent.  May we all pray for peace in our world during these troubled times.

"O day of peace that dimly shines through all our hopes and prayers and dreams,
guide us to justice, truth, and love, delivered from our selfish schemes.
May swords of hate fall from our hands, our hearts from envy find release,
tip by God's grace our warring world shall see Christ's promised reign of peace.

Then shall the wolf dwell with the lamb, nor shall the fierce devour the small;
as beasts and cattle calmly graze, a little child shall lead them all.
Then enemies shall learn to love, all creatures find their true accord;
the hope of peace shall be fulfilled, for all the earth shall know the Lord."

Soli deo Gloria