Forsythia Bush This morning, my little grandchildren were up early watching cartoons, when suddenly, Peter and CJ looked out the window and noticed the forsythia bush finally covered with yellow blossoms. We have been watching other forsythia bushes blooming and wondered when ours would erupt in blossom. Well, today is the day! The promise of warmer weather and spring flowers has been a hot topic in our household for the past few weeks. It's so nice when the earth finally wakes up!
A few years ago, I was scrolling through Facebook and came across something that took me off guard. The post was by a director who posted that her choir was learning "Forget Me Not, O Lord," and she had seed packets for the choir members to help them create a memory with the song. What a wonderful idea! Such a "spring" thing to do!
It was such a thrilling experience to create this song. I was asked to take the words from then President Uchtdorf's talk (newly delivered at the Women's Broadcast in September 2011) and create a piece to be included in the birthday gift basket from the Tabernacle Choir in November (just a few weeks away). When the song was finished, we gathered some 27 singers from the choir to record it.
I felt that the song needed three verses. The first, sung by the sopranos, would be from the perspective of the tiny flower. The second, sung by the altos, would be from the perspective of a woman. And the third, sung by the men, would be from the perspective of our loving Heavenly Father. At the end, all of the individual parts would be sung together. The wonderful singers from the TabChoir were so skilled at sight-singing and blending! We spent just a few minutes learning the song, and then recorded it. Oh, that every choir I directed had such beautiful and talented singers!
Then President Uchtdorf was so pleased when he heard "Forget Me Not, O Lord" on the CD that he asked me and my husband to come visit with him so that he could thank me in person. He hoped that the song would be sung throughout the Church for many years to come. That message was so very special to him.
Like the little flower, you think you are alone,
So lost and insignificant and slight.
Our Father knows your needs, each child is loved and known.
His precious children are the source of His delight.
You are known.
You are loved.
Though you at times may feel so small,
He'll ease your pains.
He'll dry your tears
And give you power to fill the measure of your being.
It was such a thrilling experience to create this song. I was asked to take the words from then President Uchtdorf's talk (newly delivered at the Women's Broadcast in September 2011) and create a piece to be included in the birthday gift basket from the Tabernacle Choir in November (just a few weeks away). When the song was finished, we gathered some 27 singers from the choir to record it.
I felt that the song needed three verses. The first, sung by the sopranos, would be from the perspective of the tiny flower. The second, sung by the altos, would be from the perspective of a woman. And the third, sung by the men, would be from the perspective of our loving Heavenly Father. At the end, all of the individual parts would be sung together. The wonderful singers from the TabChoir were so skilled at sight-singing and blending! We spent just a few minutes learning the song, and then recorded it. Oh, that every choir I directed had such beautiful and talented singers!
Then President Uchtdorf was so pleased when he heard "Forget Me Not, O Lord" on the CD that he asked me and my husband to come visit with him so that he could thank me in person. He hoped that the song would be sung throughout the Church for many years to come. That message was so very special to him.
Like the little flower, you think you are alone,
So lost and insignificant and slight.
Our Father knows your needs, each child is loved and known.
His precious children are the source of His delight.
You are known.
You are loved.
Though you at times may feel so small,
He'll ease your pains.
He'll dry your tears
And give you power to fill the measure of your being.
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