Finding my voice

Throughout Lent, I’ve been making a more conscious effort to pray throughout the day.  The easiest way for me to do this is to sing the formal prayers that I know in Latin.  From the beauty of the Panis Angelicus to the Ave Maria both in chant and the version written by Gounod, singing prayers as I go about my daily responsibilities has kept me grounded in the grace to be found in the simple tasks of every day life.  However, I noticed something interesting while I sang my way through dishes and laundry:

My voice sounds best when I’m not trying to stifle it to keep it quieter.  If I am trying to sing quietly, my voice cracks and sounds off from where it is supposed to be.

Timidity alters how I sing, and in this case how I pray.  When I try to minimize and contain my singing voice, it becomes distorted and a distraction from the words I sing.  It’s only when I sing without reserve that I sound like myself, and my voice faithfully communicates the words I am praying.

Singing is just one way to speak truth about God, and I wonder how much timidity colors the other ways that I try to share the Gospel.  Where else does my timidity muffle and distort the message of a God who loves enough to die for love of His beloved?

One of the fundamental realities of conveying a message means that you have to speak so that people can hear it.  This is something that I have never been comfortable with, but my discomfort with the potential for conflict really doesn’t matter much in light of my obligation as a Catholic to love my neighbors well enough to risk discomfort to share Christ with them.

I know it won’t happen overnight, but for now I will work to speak with my own voice the truth I embrace.  The message is more important than the messenger, and I need to get out of my own way and prepare the way for Christ.