I’m the new ward choir director. New as of a month and a half ago. I know just enough about conducting choirs to know that I don’t know very much at all, and since I was called right before Christmas I have had to jump in and start waving my arms around as though I do know something. That beat pattern in the back of the hymnbook only goes so far–I still have to get everyone to start and stop together, and I have yet to figure out dynamics. I bought a big DVD set from Dr. Staheli and Sister Hall at BYU, and I’m working my way through it, but it’s slow going right now. There are many other demands on my time and attention. Every Sunday I regret once more the fact that I have not really figured things out yet. It’s the most intimidating calling I’ve ever had, like being called to play a new instrument.

(And here I will take a slight detour to say that some people might think that because I like to sing and have sung in ward choirs I must know how to conduct a choir, to which I say if you like to ride on planes and are really good with following those safety instructions, can you fly an airplane?)

Wrestling with this new calling has been massively humbling. I left the best calling in the Church, which for me is teaching Relief Society. Teaching Relief Society felt like a mercy and a blessing because the chaos surrounding my recent baby has yet to be tamed. I could not believe that, in the middle of my overwhelming life, I was being asked to take on choir. I very nearly turned it down; I had heard a rumor it was coming and I still felt incredulous. Surely the Lord knew how overwhelming things were right now.

Two things led me to accept it: The memory of a recent temple trip gave me a bit of will. And also, the memory of the choirs I grew up with. My ward had a youth choir, separate from the ward choir. That’s where I learned to sing parts and hear harmonies. Some of the songs I learned are with me still, things the Spirit reminds me of when I need it: “Take time to be holy, the world rushes on. Spend much time in secret with Jesus alone.” I have written before about how, as a teenager, I didn’t fully realize the time required to work with the youth of the Church, but I understand and appreciate it better now. I will say here that I didn’t understand the time required to conduct choirs either.

But my ward choir is patient with me. However much I’d like to know what I am doing, they are kind and let me practice the cutoffs ten times till I can figure it out. They come and sing Sunday mornings and bring the Spirit. Two of my friends watch my kids so my husband and older children can sing with me too. And when we sang a simple Primary song two weeks ago, it brought the Spirit into the meeting. It was enough.

There’s a certain kind of mercy in having the perfect calling, like teaching Relief Society, that comes easily, that I enjoy and can feel good at. The mercy involved in conducting choir is different: the choir members are kind as I learn what I’m doing. I am learning to be patient with myself, too, to allow myself to grow into the kind of choir director I remember from my youth. And my children, not realizing the full extent of my weakness, stand trusting before me and sing, which turns out to be the greatest mercy of all.