Sing!

I grew up in churches listening to my Dad singing. Some of my sweetest and most enchanting childhood memories involve soaring cathedral ceilings, pipe organs, robed choirs and, of course, the sound of music.

When I was finally old enough, I started singing myself - directed by my Dad in church choirs from the time I was seven years old.

I quit when I was six months pregnant, making my choir career 27 blissful years long.

The church is a huge comfort to me - and, sometimes, a torment too. I won't lie. But mostly now I find the familiarity of the surroundings and the rituals comforting.

And I still sing. From the pews instead of the choir loft now, but that's okay.

You can't go home. But you can take the memories with you. And you can always, always sing.

This cathedral window motif, made from a little remnant of soft, peach coloured cotton from my Mom, made me think of the choir years - of my dad and all the people whose voices I've listened to, sung with and loved.

February 9, 2009



The beautiful old saying, "To sing is to pray twice" is so true. So very true.