As many (probably most) know, Jason is in the hospital right now (and will be for two weeks) to get serviced, tires rotated, and oil changed.....uhhhh, anyway, he and I drove down last Friday at 5 AM! to get him all checked in and started on his treatment. I stayed with him until Monday afternoon and then returned back to Idaho to move......yes, move. The help I received was amazing and I feel so blessed to be surrounded by family and friends who are so willing to serve and help and sweat and lift and scrub and twist and bend.....
BUT ANYWAY, this is not what I wanted to talk about right now. What I wanted to talk about was our little Sunday experience in the Hope Chapel on the second floor of the hospital. First of all church only lasts thirty minutes for the Latter Day Saints on the second floor of the hospital (Aunt Margaret's favorite kind of church) and the attire is anything from hospital gowns and bed head to shiny Sunday shoes, dress/skirt or shirt and tie....so needless to say, Jason and I felt real comfortable in our sweats and tennis shoes. Attire aside, we had an incredible experience in our sweet little fast and testimony meeting and I will forever have a soft spot for the people in the Hospital Branch.
One experience we had, that wasn't quite as tender as others, was during the opening hymn. It was one of my favorites, "I Believe in Christ", and the few people in the room weren't really singing--or weren't singing very loud anyway. (I have always been one to belt out a song to encourage others to sing with me and so has Jason.) Jason and I were singing loudly and the volume of the others picked up as well. By the third verse we were all doing pretty well. Something happened right there in the middle of the third verse though. Something happened in my brain. My voice, unwillingly, started to end the song during measure 10. I started to ritard (ritardando: musical term for gradually slower and hold notes) as I sang "Ye shhhhaaaallllll obbbbbbbbbtain." As this happened I noticed that everyone else (including Jason) followed me. The chorister was swinging her arm slower and came to a stop The organ player stopped playing, turned in her seat, and looked at me. I leaned over to Jason and said, "I threw everyone off didn't I." He nodded his head, leaned over, and softly whispered back in my ear, "SHHHHH!" The organist turned back around and started back up and finished off the song and the patients and branch members tried to get back in the groove.
I couldn't finish the song. Jason tried. We were both giggling. I had tears fall from my eyes (part funny, part embarrassment).
The two other songs went much better. And yes, Jason and I still sang loudly and those around us must have forgiven me (or forgotten....hey, I don't know why some of those people were in there) because they joined in as well and just as loud as before.