It was my turn to worship lead at last night's cell group meeting. So I was busy choosing my songs on Thursday evening. Together with Diane, we went through some of the songs on a list I brought back from church. Maybe it was due to the persistent cough I have been having for the past six weeks, my voice sounded weak, thin, squeaky, grainy, raspy and I had mucus in my throat and had to keep clearing it at almost every alternate line I sang. I hate my voice. I know, I know.. a voice is far better than no voice at all but if only, how I wish I have a richer sounding voice. I could not sing the songs I chose. I could not get the tunes right. I was off key. I could not reach the notes. I just sounded awful. Why do they have to roster me for worship leading when I cannot sing???

So yesterday arrived. I was not really enthusiastic about practicing so far. I reached home, went through my song list one more round and did my chores in the time before we left for cg. I was sooo tempted to keep quiet when Bernard almost wanted to go into Word, so I could be easily let off. I reluctantly asked, "Worship?" Bernard, who had not reminded me as he usually did when my turn was up, eagerly responded, "You prepared? Let's have Worship!" Then the amazing thing happened. For every song I started off, I hit the right note and got everyone singing and worshiping in tune. When we stopped to pray and resumed worship, I started off the the exact right note. My voice came out richly loud and melodious and I could reach all the high notes! I felt quite amazed and awed. It was an incredible feeling comparing the difference. John kept on going on a faster tempo for one song but I was able to bring him back. It was amazing how God's grace worked. Today I asked Diane if she had noticed and she said the same things. Just amazing and incredible that my practice sessions at home had differed so widely from the actual worship session. It was indeed God's grace that carried me through.

My voice is thin and straggly again.

I fell this evening.

Coming back from the Ramadhan bazaar where Diane and I had spent a pleasant half hour looking at the food stuffs offered by the vendors (we bought some buah rambai and pisang awak), I decided that I wanted to mop the floor. It is so nice to get into active mode especially after a day when you feel like you have not really done anything useful. More reason so because Aun had been busy in the kitchen and he always leaves the floor a sticky mess.

I was one mop round away from being completed when I slipped on the step at the back door as I hurried to my bucket of water. I felt my foot lose it's grip on the floor and I lost physical contact with the ground. In that second as my body slanted backwards, it felt as though time slowed down while I struggled to regain my footing and my balance. Time really slowed down because I had time to think, oh no I'm falling again and I felt my foot slip off the ground and my body suspend in mid air. My hands instinctively flailed to grab something, anything but to no avail. I landed with a thump, on the fleshy part of my rump. In that instant, my mind went, Praise God, Praise God it is not my spine! In the next split second my elbow hit the floor and the top right side of my head hit the door. As I lied on the floor mentally assessing the damage, Diane appeared. She had heard the bumps I made falling, above the sound of her hair dryer in my room. I recovered after a few minutes, washed my mop, instructed Diane to dry that culprit of a wet floor on the step and continued with my last round.