Sunday, March 27, 2016

The Must-Do's In Life

Always take the walking route closest to the water.

Never waste calories on bad tasting food. 

Apologize immediately rather than later.

Never miss the chance to experience Handel's Messiah.

I'd heard there was a Handel's Messiah sing along with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir. Christmas' ago, I'd bought tickets to a chorus sing-in and had loved the experience. But this time when I called for tickets, the man informed me they'd been gone for weeks.

"You can always go standby," he suggested.

"What is the likelihood of making it in?" I thought of the cold March weather and wondered if standing in line for an hour would be worth it.

"I really can't say," he answered. So, I put the idea of attending the concert on the back burner of absolutes.

The next day, a friend texted: I have three extra tickets to Handel's Messiah. Do you want them.

I leaped from my chair. YES!

I can't wait to sing the Hallelujah chorus with the MoTab! Tony doesn't think it is a sing along and the tickets are mum.

"I'll sing along anyways," I say with a smile.

It's not a sing along, and it's the full oratorio of 2.5 hours, and the benches in the old 1867 tabernacle are harder than stone.

When the music starts with a complete symphony, a maestro conductor named Mack Wilberg, the four soloists of national acclaim, and a choir that makes me wonder if a choir of angels could get any better---I feel privileged to be here for just 2.5 hours sitting on a hard bench. Every song brings tears to my eyes, and the time floats by in sublime grandeur. I feel deep gratitude for my hearing and ability to see what I can hear. In this moment I vow to never be sad because I now need glasses and may one day need a hearing aid--for I have seen and heard enough to be grateful for the rest of my life.

Praises to the Messiah, fill my soul with a desire to be a better person, to think of others more than myself, to look to the Messiah in all things, to praise his glory. Who is this Jesus that could inspire such beauty? I want to know him better.

In the Amen culmination, the organs reverberates the balcony; I feel the music through my entire body.

I am sorry when it ends at 10:00 p.m. I have forgotten that I skipped dinner because there wasn't enough time. I am filled.


"I see why it wasn't a sing along," I say to Tony. " I recall how disturbing it was when the two people in front of us had a short conversation during the concert--imagine if all of us blue collar singers had had tried to blend in with the gifted professionals.

Never miss the chance to experience Handel's Messiah.