La Musique

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

I realised worship-leading can be such a joy.
And being the typical overly-anxious hyperventilating freak I am, that's saying a lot.

Because once every song sung, every note (screeched?) is dedicated to God, what is left is only the unalloyed bliss of giving praise to the Creator. When you lead worship, staring down at like about 80 people, you start searching every face. There are those who close their eyes and sing, some sing with expressionless features, some who clap enthusiastically along, or those who don't sing at all.

And so I get the impression of a orchestra. In the esplanade-themed YZ room, I am conducting an orchestra. Like every one of us has a different voice, we are all each unique instruments of God's will. Some draw out raw tones of the violin, or linger over rippling passages on the piano. Or maybe the reedy thin song of an oboe, beside the sensuous sway of a saxophone. Achingly pure notes trill out of the flute, amidst the slow rumbling boom of the timpani. And look! Who's the lone individual sitting in the first-class mid-row comfy chairs?

I can give you a clue. It's not Pastor Kien Seng.

1:11 AM