Every Thursday I gather with 65 other people from around the twin cities and we spend the next 2 hours singing together.  After 13 years we have formed some pretty strong connections with one another.  A group of us meet after rehearsal for refreshments and laughing (so much laughing.)  In many ways, it’s the highlight of my week.  I spend those two hours working hard on something with other people so we can give a gift to others come performance time.  Only some of our music is sacred, and yet every week I find at least one moment of great spirituality and I am connected to other people, music and God. 

Last Thursday (March 12th) we made a difficult decision.  We, as a group, decided to cancel the season.  We could have continued and waited to see if the CDC would tighten their advisement to groups smaller than 250 or ignored the concerns and continued to sing even if we knew we might not have a concert this spring.  But we decided not to.  I looked around at the members over 60, the mothers and fathers that had babies and those in the health field and realized that this was an important activity for all of us, life giving in many situations.  But right now, it isn’t mandatory. 

Before we left, we spread out (6 feet apart!) and sang one last song.  By the end I was in tears and I was scared.  I looked at my friends and they were scared.  The uncertainty was thick in the air.  But it was the best I had felt all week.  In that moment I was connecting with other people, connecting with God and connecting with my own emotions through music.  I longed for more of it, but I also knew leaving was the right thing to do.  It was a farewell song for people who chose to say goodbye for the sake of other people. 

I need an artistic outlet in my life; I need to sing, and I need my time in choir, but I don’t need it right now.  Right now, I need my friends and family to be safe.  I need to realize that I can sing in the shower.  I can blast youtube videos of my favorite choir music and sing along.  I can listen to music in my car.  For now, I can do it alone.

Please spend time this week thinking about what you can do alone.  What you can give up for the next couple of months so others can be healthy?  How can you say no today, so tomorrow others can say yes?

No storm can shake my inmost calm,
unto that rock, I’m clinging. 
Since love is Lord of Heaven and Earth,
how can I keep from singing?

Blessings and peace to you, my friends. I hope we can connect in new and different ways over the next several weeks. I am always open for a virtual conversation, phone call or text so please reach out via email at so we can set something up.

Kristi Larson
Director of Youth and Family Ministries