Skip to main content

The Lessons Learned From A.I. and Rebecca

It used to be that I sang alot. Sang in high school choirs, sang in church choirs, sang with small groups for various church activities through the years. You know, music was always there. I knew I wasn't the best singer in the world- no Natalie Merchant- but I loved it. Music really makes me happy. I did, however, wonder when my voice would be rich and big and beautiful like my mom's. In my teens I thought it would be in my twenties. In my twenties I decided that I would always sound like a small child when I sang next to my mom. Last night I received my A.I. revelation. Adam and Kris were the last two in the competition. I have always adored Adam, I mean the guy sings "Mad World" and I get the chills, but all of the sudden I found that Kris was growing on me. Adam's voice was bigger, more impressive, but Kris' was simple, straight forward, and nice to listen to as well. It suited him and the songs he chose to sing. He had his own part to play.

I will never sing like my mom. My voice was not meant for solos in the Messiah.

This brings me to what I learned from Rebecca. The other day we were discussing singing and our ward choir and I was lamenting the fact that I couldn't join. I just can not leave Mike to get all of the kids ready every Sunday morning so I can go to choir. You know, it's the whole "everything has its season thing." I told Rebecca that the one thing I was scared of is not using my "talent" no matter its insignificance (the Lord thought it best to create me with no real discernible talents, I'm not fishing, just stating the facts). Rebecca looked at me and said "But you do. You sing to your children all the time, they love your singing. You know more silly songs than I could imagine (thank you Girls' Camp and Raffi) and I thought I knew alot of songs (Rebecca went camping with us and Sawyer and Ellyn were a little fussy so we started singing... and singing and singing as the two oldest girls requested all their favorites).

It was like a ray of sunshine. I was using my talent and for the most noble purpose I could imagine, to bring happiness, comfort, and fun, to my four beautiful children. I'm not meant for solos in The Messiah, I'm meant for solos or small groups kneeling next to a bed, or driving in the van, or around a campfire, or dancing in the kitchen (we rock out to Mama Mia all the time. Mike puts on his earphones in the living room), and I'm okay with that. Well it's time to go make dinner, maybe I'll make some carrot stew (carrot stew, carrot stew, its our favorite thing to do. Get a pot and a carrot or twooooo and cook up some carrot stew).

There you have it, deep thoughts by Brooke Stinchfield

Comments

Mindi said…
brookie your voice is amazing. i am just lucky i can still sing a little, i do love it and you. way to keep me updated on soy.
Mindi said…
that last comment was from your mom
kristenhcubed said…
You forgot to mention singing with your sisters (when the chance comes). I've heard you. As a sisters singer myself...that is truly one of the Lord's great blessings. You lucky lady!

Popular posts from this blog

2018 and Another Go!

For almost three years I have been thinking how very sad it is that I hadn't continued to keep a journal of our family activities.  No more deployment letters and emails to Mike, no more family blog to keep grandparents and aunts and uncles connected to our family.  Nothing but printed off monthly calendars saved in a file somewhere.  I guess our family blog died a slow death when we lived in Washington and we were seeing everyone all of the time.  It just was not important to keep everyone informed.  They were right there with us.  I did not stop, in all the chaos, to think how very important the blog might be to me, or to my children.  I have often thought of the cute pictures and quotes we had saved on our family blog.  I thought of the interviews I did with the kiddos, and how grateful I was that, somewhere, on a dusty webpage, those beautiful faces, those funny antics, still existed.  I have checked to make sure the blog still existed fr...

MICHAEL IS COMING HOME TOMORROW!!

My Michael is coming home . You can't just say it. You have to SING it. Tomorrow my tall, strong, gorgeous, husband will be here and it will be beautiful. He will nestle into the life of our family and we will have him with us, here, in our house, in our family . He'll help put on jammies and read stories, and tutor Jane in math. He'll take me on dates and wrestle at least one child during sacrament meeting. He'll snuggle me in bed at night and nuzzle my neck while I'm doing dishes. We'll go for walks and play games and watch movies and do fun family Saturday stuff. He'll help carry a kid down to the car and then he'll drive while I put on my makeup ! We love him, we know how much he loves us. We can't wait! Don't worry, I won't work him to death. I won't make him cook dinner every night for the next 10 months or hand over the kids and take off to the spa for the weekend (tempting, but... no). We just want him HERE. I kee...
November 7, 2020, My Beautiful and Wise Daughter, Jane. I can breathe again. I won't be going to bed with my stomach in knots and my whole body feeling tight. I won’t be listening to a President who gains momentum by tearing others down. I won’t be going to sleep worrying that my children won’t have clean water to drink or clean air to breathe. I won’t be going to sleep thinking about the horrific experiences of children being torn from their mother’s and father’s arms because they were seeking refuge. I won’t be living in fear of the rapidly-growing racist attitudes and prejudice—that someday harm would come upon my baby that I have now and my future children. That my sister and my cousin and others that I love won’t be stripped of their rights and feel like they are any less of a human being than the rest of us. If this election wasn’t going to change anything for you and if you didn’t see the harm that Trump was causing, that is great and I’m sincerely glad that you have that p...