Back in the choir, back in the canoe

It’s been a couple years since I last sang with a church choir. And it’s been a few years more since I last sang with a really good choir.

But as part of my game plan to really get involved this week as I officially begin seminary, I pushed myself into joining the First Week choir. I don’t know that I’ll have the time to join the actual choir once classes begin, but I thought this free trial was worth a shot. After remarkably little rehearsal (particularly because this morning’s library tour completely overlapped with the choir’s second meeting), we debuted at this morning’s chapel.

Under normal circumstances, this all would have been scary. I’m rusty as a singer — nowhere near the caliber of my die-hard choir days in high school or in my first two years of college. But it has been nothing but fun, simply because the talents and energy of the other singers lifted me up. When I couldn’t find a note while sight-reading, I could quickly pick it up from the other tenors around me. Never in a million years would I have considered singing a solo, but in a group, I’m stronger and braver.

Rewind to Sunday morning. I was at my in-laws’ cabin on the Wisconsin-Upper Michigan border, looking forward to another day of doing absolutely nothing. By default, that’s what I like to do — sit around. But my sister-in-law, Stephanie, and her boyfriend, Paul, asked my wife, Tracy, and me if we wanted to go canoeing down the nearby Brule River with them.

Understand that I had made an unspoken promise to myself that I would never go canoeing again. I had only done so once, 10 years ago, with my best friend from high school, and it was an absolute nightmare. On that day, we sank our canoe at least once, were nearly beheaded by a fallen tree and finished dead last in our group and with only one paddle (the only highlight was when my buddy, while dragging our canoe through the river in an attempt to catch up, found a pack of raw hot dogs in the river and started chewing on them and spitting them in a bout of apparent madness).

But when I was asked to go canoeing again, I couldn’t think of why not. The key was that I would have people with me — particularly Tracy, whom I trusted in a canoe far more than my hot-dog-spitting buddy. And I’m glad I went Sunday. The short trip down the river offered some breathtaking looks at God's wonders of nature, including a bald eagle and an enormous blue crane. We stayed afloat and even finished with both paddles. And all because I could rely on my wife (maybe I relied on her a little too much at the end — see the photo above).

That strength in numbers sums up the last two days here at seminary. While we always know we can rely on God, it helps immeasurably to have people around us to support us. As nervous as I was about starting seminary and as introverted as I am, I quickly saw that other new students — particularly the ones who didn’t have the benefit of starting early with Greek like I did — were going through the same thing. And almost as a reflex, I became more outgoing because I knew it was a way to help them with their own qualms, just as others have already done for me.

Tomorrow, I’ll be part of a clean-up effort in tornado-damaged areas of Le Sueur County as a service-day activity. Normally I’d be a bit hesitant about manual labor in unfamiliar area, but knowing that I’ll be in good company and as we help others makes it exciting instead. Heck, if other people can help me sound like a good singer or keep me afloat in a canoe, there’s nothing we can’t accomplish together.