Twenty Days



I grew up in the Baptist church and I was always a member of the choir. First, in the youth choir and then with the adults. Being a choir member was an amazing experience from me. I loved it. I’m not a great singer, I’m not even a good singer but when all the voices come together, it is truly something special.


There was a certain ritual that we went through as a choir member. Choir rehearsal was on Friday night and we would prepare every detail for Sunday morning. If we were learning a new song, the rehearsal would sometimes go long. Each part had to be perfect. On Sunday morning, the choir would gather in the Fellowship Hall and pray before service. Then we would line up in our robes and march into the sanctuary. At the appointed time, the choir would sing two songs before the offering and then another one right before the sermon.


I loved those days.


I belong to a more charismatic, non-denominational church today. I have been a member of this church for 10 years and I am grateful for this church family. This church, as many today, do not have the big choirs. We have a small worship team that comes to the platform and leads the congregation in worship at the beginning of service and that is the end of the music for the rest of the service.


The feeling now is that the worship prepares you to receive the Word. But it is not really an integral part of the service. I miss that.


As I journey to 56, I know that it is okay to be nostalgic about the things of the past and still honor the present.

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