mean a lot of rehearsals, and she wouldn’t have time for any other activities. The choir would be her home, her friends, her study mates. And the rehearsals conflicted with the Friday evening meetings of the Harvard Chrisdan Fellowship, including the first meeting in two days. But there were sure to be Christians in the group she could have a Bible study with or something.
Knock-knock-knock! “Claire Rivers, you’re up next!”
Claire jumped and grabbed her music. She paced in front of the audition hall, reviewing the soprano line one last time. For some reason she felt a little uneasy and tried to shake it off. Smiling confidently, she listened through the closed door to the muted sounds of the current quartet. Her favorite and best singing style was how theCollegium did it’s final auditions—in four-part harmony, with three current members singing the other lines. She paced a bit to stay loose, but the uneasy feeling returned. What was what?
She gasped. I haven’t prayed about this! I should’ve asked if this is what God wanted before I committed to it . Feeling slightly foolish, she stood in a quiet corner. Lord forgive me for not seeking Your face about this. I give this audition to You. May Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven —
“Claire Rivers!”
She took a deep breath and walked through the double doors…
… and Gael received his orders. He swept in quietly, taking an unseen position between Claire and the director. His eyes were sympathetic as he gently placed his hands on her shoulders.
Less than five minutes later, Claire walked blindly out the doors, down the hallway, and into the sunny courtyard in front of Paine Hall. What on earth had happened? She hadn’t been able to sing one phrase correctly. She had even started on the wrong note after the director had just played it, for crying out loud!
She had sung a few lines off-key until the director had cleared his throat and stopped her. Her face flush with embarrassment, Claire saw the other singers glance at each other. She could practically hear them thinking, How did she ever get this for?
The director had laughed the mistake off. “You must be a bit nervous, Claire. Don’t worry. Just start again.”
She had agreed with heartfelt thanks—and proceeded to make even worse mistakes. She couldn’t follow the director’s tempo—a simple thing she had learned in second grade!—and was off-beat as well as off-key. It was a relief when the director had stopped the piece halfway through. “Thank you, Claire. That will be all. We’ll be posting the final choir roster tomorrow.”
Out in the late afternoon sunshine, Claire plopped dully down in the shade of a big tree. She watched hundreds of students walk by without really seeing them.
She flopped onto her back, sticks and dry leaves crackling underneath her, mentally kicking herself. She hadn’t really liked the other choir or the a cappella group she had visited. Maybe she should’ve kept her options open until being sure of the Collegium … but no, she just hadn’t felt comfortable in those other groups. They had seemed aloof and supercilious, and as much as she wanted to sing, she knew being cooped up with a group of snooty people would be even worse.
Another student from the music program came out of Paine Hall, and Claire looked away and picked up a book. She breathed a sigh of relief when the student walked in the other direction.
She slammed her book to the ground. Why, Lord?
To her mind came the image of her last-minute prayer before the audition. The memory stopped her complaints cold. Conviction washed over her. “Forgive me, God. Forgive me for my stupid pride.”
A demon hovering above her suddenly received an almighty blow, spinning him high into the air, through the trunks of several trees, and around the corner of a nearby building. He had been soaking up strength and pleasure from the last few minutes of torment he had inflicted on the girl. But
Knock-knock-knock! “Claire Rivers, you’re up next!”
Claire jumped and grabbed her music. She paced in front of the audition hall, reviewing the soprano line one last time. For some reason she felt a little uneasy and tried to shake it off. Smiling confidently, she listened through the closed door to the muted sounds of the current quartet. Her favorite and best singing style was how theCollegium did it’s final auditions—in four-part harmony, with three current members singing the other lines. She paced a bit to stay loose, but the uneasy feeling returned. What was what?
She gasped. I haven’t prayed about this! I should’ve asked if this is what God wanted before I committed to it . Feeling slightly foolish, she stood in a quiet corner. Lord forgive me for not seeking Your face about this. I give this audition to You. May Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven —
“Claire Rivers!”
She took a deep breath and walked through the double doors…
… and Gael received his orders. He swept in quietly, taking an unseen position between Claire and the director. His eyes were sympathetic as he gently placed his hands on her shoulders.
Less than five minutes later, Claire walked blindly out the doors, down the hallway, and into the sunny courtyard in front of Paine Hall. What on earth had happened? She hadn’t been able to sing one phrase correctly. She had even started on the wrong note after the director had just played it, for crying out loud!
She had sung a few lines off-key until the director had cleared his throat and stopped her. Her face flush with embarrassment, Claire saw the other singers glance at each other. She could practically hear them thinking, How did she ever get this for?
The director had laughed the mistake off. “You must be a bit nervous, Claire. Don’t worry. Just start again.”
She had agreed with heartfelt thanks—and proceeded to make even worse mistakes. She couldn’t follow the director’s tempo—a simple thing she had learned in second grade!—and was off-beat as well as off-key. It was a relief when the director had stopped the piece halfway through. “Thank you, Claire. That will be all. We’ll be posting the final choir roster tomorrow.”
Out in the late afternoon sunshine, Claire plopped dully down in the shade of a big tree. She watched hundreds of students walk by without really seeing them.
She flopped onto her back, sticks and dry leaves crackling underneath her, mentally kicking herself. She hadn’t really liked the other choir or the a cappella group she had visited. Maybe she should’ve kept her options open until being sure of the Collegium … but no, she just hadn’t felt comfortable in those other groups. They had seemed aloof and supercilious, and as much as she wanted to sing, she knew being cooped up with a group of snooty people would be even worse.
Another student from the music program came out of Paine Hall, and Claire looked away and picked up a book. She breathed a sigh of relief when the student walked in the other direction.
She slammed her book to the ground. Why, Lord?
To her mind came the image of her last-minute prayer before the audition. The memory stopped her complaints cold. Conviction washed over her. “Forgive me, God. Forgive me for my stupid pride.”
A demon hovering above her suddenly received an almighty blow, spinning him high into the air, through the trunks of several trees, and around the corner of a nearby building. He had been soaking up strength and pleasure from the last few minutes of torment he had inflicted on the girl. But
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