Today, the Music and the Spoken Word broadcast was sentimental for me. One year (plus a week) ago, I sang in my very first Music and the Spoken Word broadcast as a future member of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Today was also the day that the new members of the Chorale joined us in the broadcast. To this date, I still remember the music that we performed last year, as they are special to me, and will always remain special. As I spoke with several Chorale members after the broadcast, their reactions were different than mine. One of them remarked that they were extremely nervous, that their legs were knocking together. Another remarked it was good. Good? Although I didn't expect them to have the same, my personal experience was completely different.

Strangely, I didn't blog about that experience one year ago. I'm not sure why I didn't, so I'll try to relive that experience now. The alarm went off at the normal 5:30, but I was already awake. The wonderful staff of the Choir School prepped us on what to do, what not to do and encouraged us to get to the Tabernacle early so we can be better prepared and not harried - something I have faithfully done every week since then. I remember dressing in the designated suit and tie for the days broadcast and sitting in the "overflow area" to be assigned a seat. Wearing that grey suit and "gold tie" (which to me looked orange but that's what they call this tie) made me feel a part of the great organization.  The brethren I was going to be sitting next to were extremely helpful. They helped me with some things that the Choir school either missed or wasn't anticipated.

The conductor for that day's broadcast was Ryan Murphy, our beloved Chorale director and it was a organ broadcast - no full orchestra. But that didn't matter. I was there in the choir loft. The run-through went by quickly, and just as quick as the run-through the actual broadcast was over. As I mentioned in several blog posts before, I am the first admit that I am an emotional man. Yes, I got weepy singing many of the songs. As I think about it, the weeping was more of a "pinch me, this isn't real" experience. 

In looking back at my life as a member of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir this year, it was full of wonderment, awe, and spiritual moments. Very few people will get to accompany Bryn Terfel, Nathan Pacheco, Lindsey Stirling, James Taylor, Catherine Voight, and John Rhys-Davies as well as other people of prominence. Very few people will get to see our Prophet up close and personal as well as fellow members of the First Presidency, Quorum of the Twelve and Seventy as well as other General officers of the church. Very few will get to shake hands of excited people who love the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Very few people get to sing with a world-class orchestra as well as top-notch organists. And very few people will get to witness the inspiration and genius of our wonderful directors. Their drive for perfection makes us also seek for that perfection. I still have those "pinch me, this isn't real" moments, but find that they are slowly being replaced by singing and believing what I sing and sharing my testimony of those words to others. Today, as I sang the final "Worthy is the Lamb" from Handel's Messiah, I knew what I was singing. I testified via music that:

Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, and hath redeemed us to God by his
blood, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honour,
and glory, and blessing. Blessing and honour, glory and power, be unto
Him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, for ever and ever.
(Revelation 5:12-14)

And, yes I got weepy. Because I am grateful for the knowledge of what my Savior did for not only myself but for everyone - whether they accept or recognize that gift. I wish the world would recognize this - the world would be completely different with this knowledge. 

So, as I sat this Sunday next to a new chorale member, my mind went back one year. But this year it was my turn to be the helpful choir member, giving him snippets of what I learned this past year and won't be taught, as well as true brotherhood and encouragement. It was my turn to put my arm around a future choir member and help him through the ins and outs of the broadcast. I shared with him what was told to me one year ago  - cherish the moment. 

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