“I would love to sing a solo for church on Sunday,” I answered our Musical Director (Roberta) on Tuesday. I was already leading the 9:30 service with a great group of gals, so why not? I knew the song she wanted me to sing so no big deal.
I went to practice on Thursday, sung through the song a few times and felt very confident.
Sunday morning, I sang my song at the 8 am service. I was nervous, but I made it through without any mistakes. One down, two to go.
The 9:30 service rolled around. The other ladies leading the service showed up and we began running a few other songs that would be featured in the service. We got through our first three songs without a hitch and sat down for the announcements and prayer. During prayer, I began mentally going through my song, as I was next in the program. I concentrated hard and willed myself to recite the lyrics over and over again.
I saw Roberta get up and move to the piano before the prayer was done. I took a deep breath and followed her lead. I adjusted my microphone and relaxed my stance waiting for the prayer to be over.
Just then, I noticed that the four other ladies in the group followed me up to the microphones. I silently tried to signal them to go sit down, not wanting to interrupt the prayer that was still going on. I looked back and Andy had taken his place at the bass guitar. I thought, “Man, these guys are going to feel so stupid when they realize they aren’t supposed to be here!”
The piano started; I listened to the four bars of intro and confidently began singing my song. After about a line and a half I realized that the piano was no longer playing and that all the singers were looking at me.
I looked at Roberta extremely confused. “Candace, it’s not your song yet,” she whispered to me. “You don’t sing until the Offertory,” which was after the sermon, in about 20 minutes. My head began to reel and I wasn’t sure if I was going to cry or throw up. Luckily, since I couldn’t decide, I didn’t do either. Instead I grabbed my microphone and apologized to the congregation for my daftness.
Heh, heh. Just kidding.
Happy 100th post.