I am not a pianist.

The same Sunday I was asked to serve as the Primary pianist, a friend of mine was called to be the new Ward Choir Director. She also happens to be the most accomplished pianist in the ward, thus leaving her usual post at the piano unfilled. At one point, there were oodles of pianists in our ward from which to choose. No more. There's only one other person who can sightread at will, but she is not available to help out, unfortunately. Which means... guess who is the current ward choir accompanist?

For the record, I took two or three(at best) years of formal piano lessons. I think I had my last lesson at the age of about 9. Our family had a good laugh at the dinner table over the fact that Tim and I both have had the same amount of piano training. Um, Tim can't play a note.

The only, I repeat, only reason I can play anything on the piano is because I am a singer. And, if one likes to sing and has no one to accompany her, she sits herself down at the piano to pluck out the tune, feebly.

Choir practice is painful for me now. And everyone else. I feel like I'm reading a foreign language in which I'm far less than fluent every time I sit down to play. The time it takes for my fingers to play what my head is working feverishly to translate typically means that certain notes come out awkwardly wrong. Key changes are particularly agonizing, because it takes a few measures for my brain to truly click. I came home from choir practice today with a nasty headache, if that tells you anything.

So why the lament? After all, I volunteered to do this - knowing full well that there was almost NO ONE else to do it so I offered myself up as a sacrifice. Headaches aside, I really enjoy it. Here's why:

1. I have a reason to practice piano on a regular basis.
2. I get do to something that stretches me. Yes, it's embarrassing to be so unbelieveably lacking, but it's good for me. At least that's what I keep telling myself.
3. I'm serving. There are blessings that come through service. And it's good for all the choir members who have to shake their heads every time I botch things up to see that one does not have to be perfect in order to serve.
4. I get to set an example for my children of consistent piano practice. On top of that, wholesome music fills the home more often now.

So, for those of you who've known me for some time and are laughing at the predicament in which I've found myself, laugh away. I may be a singer, but by golly I will be a pianist, too. Of sorts.