Music: part 5

It was called Musicale.

Because I attended a small Christian high school, our music program could not compete with the large schools in the state, so Musicale had been birthed several years earlier. It was a music competition which included private schools from Washington, Oregon, Idaho, Montana and Alaska.

Held in Tacoma, it was the pinnacle of all our music department had been striving for all year. I fell into the soloist competition almost without even knowing it. My Sophomore year, barely a week before the 2-day event, my choir director casually asked if I'd sing that song I'd just sung in chapel for the Musicale soloist competition. I agreed and ended up taking 2nd place.

The next year was a different story. I was going to be prepared and wouldn't settle for anything less than first place. I faithfully met with my voice teacher every Friday morning at 6am to prepare: Classical music, with notes that included those only a dog could hear.

The hard work paid off, as I won first place. The best thing about taking first, was to be able to perform at the Friday night Grand Performance, where all the first place winners from their respective categories would display their award winning numbers. The vocal solo was always the highlight of the night, directly preceding the mass choir numbers. It had been my time to shine. My mom had a boy deliver me flowers as I walked off the stage and I felt like I was on top of the world.

Ben & I had been dating for exactly one year at the time of that Junior year Musicale. Our relationship was very strong and growing. The aspect we valued the most was helping each other grow spiritually. The long-distance relationship really helped in that effort. We would study the Bible together and compare notes whenever we spoke on the phone. We knew that the closer we got to God, the closer we would get to each other.

And I did grow closer to God. So close, in fact, that God began to open my eyes to His purposes for my love of music. It was as if overnight I suddenly saw the shallowness of using His gift in my life for my glory rather than His. I was deeply convicted. I repented for my past vain ambitions and promised to do my best to use whatever musical ability God had given me for His purposes and not my own.

When the time came during my Senior year for my choir director to submit the entries for competition into that year's Musicale, she eagerly approached me to ask which songs I would be singing this time. She couldn't believe her ears when I told her that I wasn't going to be competing this year. I tried to explain to her that I wanted to move away from singing for self, and Musicale was the ultimate in self-gratification: singing a Latin love-tragedy number to receive a prize. To me, it seemed black and white, and this was not what I should be doing anymore.

Mrs. Pennoyer asked if I would please take a week to consider my decision and talk it over with my parents and other mentors. Seattle Christian had a chance to sweep all the vocal categories that year from choir to ensemble to solo, and she didn't want to forfeit that.

I viewed this competition much like a recovering alcoholic would view going into a bar. I felt it would cause too much temptation for me to strive for personal acclaim. I was trying so hard to take the spot light off of myself and onto the Lord, where it belongs. I was fearful of regressing back into my old ways that I had fought so hard to overcome.

Ben proved such a strength for me. He understood how I felt, validated my feelings, and acknowledged how far I'd come.

Then he offered a new viewpoint. He assured me that God knows my heart, and that regardless of the venue, if my heart is right, He will be glorified. I can compete in Musicale if I can keep my focus on Him rather than me.

So the challenge was set before me. My voice teacher presented me with some unbelievable music, my choir teacher submitted my entries, and I was off. I wanted to strive to do my best for the One who gave me the talent in the first place. I practiced tirelessly until the time finally came.

Arriving in Tacoma that crisp March morning in 1992, I was nervous and prayed that God's will would be done. I struggled with the feeling of not wanting to win. I was desperately afraid of winning and then loving the spotlight of the Grand Performance. I questioned God about this daily. "How can I sing in that arena and not feel proud?" God didn't seem to answer, except for the gentle nudge to keep striving for my best.

My vocal chords were definitely feeling the strain of my months of practicing these difficult songs, along with the two ensembles and choir numbers to be performed. I was forced to sit out of some of the choir rehearsals early in the day, to save my voice for my solo adjudication.

Time seemed to creep by as I struggled to keep my voice lubricated. My adjudication finally arrived in the early afternoon, and I prayed as I walked into room. When the adjudicator gave the okay for me to begin from behind her papers and music, my voice teacher began playing my accompaniment.

I barely remember getting through the songs. I felt like I had done alright, but honestly, it was like a blur. All I could do now was wait. Wait and wait. I was still so torn, not really wanting to compromise my stance and sing in the Grand Performance, but wanting to do my best for God.

Late in the evening, as my choir rested in a side room after a full day of competing, my choir director entered the room holding a piece of paper which would reveal the winners of the day. I grabbed the hand of one of my best friends who also competed in the vocal solo category. We closed our eyes and waited for the words to come.....