For Hope Bonarcher, the invitation to step into the choir came at a season of exhaustion, doubt, and endless responsibilities. What followed became a powerful reminder that God doesn’t wait for us to feel ready; He simply asks us to bring what we have and trust Him with the rest.
“You should do it,” my husband said gently, his elbow nudging my arm. It was 2016, and we’d just accomplished the familiar mad dash to church. There were five of us then; three children aged 1-5 years, up early, fed and dressed; braving the NYC subway, checking them into their individual age-grouped childcare, and entering the sanctuary just in time to squeeze through the crowded theater seats and stand for worship.
I’d been richly blessed by the music of the 300 voice, seven time Grammy-award winning Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir, since I’d been saved. It was my first church. Six years earlier, I’d gone to an early morning service, and later that same day, gave my life to the Lord. Jim Cymbala, the lead pastor, baptized me a few weeks afterward.
READ MORE: God gave me a beautiful singing voice, but people said I was too ‘ugly’ and ‘fat’ for the music industry
When my husband encouraged me to answer Carol Cymbala’s announcement for the upcoming choir rehearsals, I almost ignored him.
When my husband encouraged me to answer Carol Cymbala’s announcement for the upcoming choir rehearsals, I almost ignored him. I love to sing, and songs like “Thou O Lord,” “Bless Your Name Forevermore”, and “My Help Cometh From The Lord,” had been in steady rotation on my playlists for years. It’d be safe to say, singing with the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir had been a recurring fantasy in my mind for a long time. But that was just a day dream. I was a busy stay-at-home mom, still nursing, my husband travelled often for work, and most prominently, we had tentative plans to move to his home country, Scotland, sometime over the next year. That was the very excuse I whispered doubtfully back to my husband, to which he responded, “you should audition, God will work all that out.”
A few weeks later, God really had worked all things together. I’d found a babysitter for the weekly rehearsal evenings and my children already loved Kid’s Church, so were happy to stay during the back-to-back Sunday services, where they were encouraged, prayed over and loved on with pizza and juice. Singing with the BT Choir was one of the highlights of my life, most prominently because of the love for Jesus and worship of Carol Cymbala; pastor’s wife, songwriter and choir director of 50 years. Under her leadership, the choir most recently won a 2026 Grammy for Best Roots Gospel Album. Mrs. Cymbala is the same woman at rehearsals as on Sunday mornings, as when she occasionally speaks on any of their 14 recorded albums. She humbly exudes a passion for Jesus, prayer and worship that permeates everything she does with reverence, grace, and joy.
READ MORE: A community choir creates confidence
Singing with a massive choir is powerful in so many ways, giving what feels like a small glimpse into what it will be like praising with all of God’s children in the halls of heaven. You can sing your heart out and at the same time, be lost in the crowd. Recently, I’ve had the privilege of ministering on a much smaller worship team here in the UK. Our local church, far from the thousands at BT, is fast growing but still in the low hundreds. I’ve worked public facing jobs, but seeking and praising Jesus before even a small group can feel daunting and vulnerable.
My personality type, a highly sensitive, social introvert, feels overwhelmed just leading worship for the under 11s, something I also do now some Sunday mornings, let alone the adults.
My personality type, a highly sensitive, social introvert, feels overwhelmed just leading worship for the under 11s, something I also do now some Sunday mornings, let alone the adults. It feels like all eyes are on me… waiting. I’ve learned the best heart stance from Carol Cymbala, one that sincerely magnifies the Lord. I have little to nothing to offer- a few loaves and fish, maybe some flour and oil. I’m still that awkward, unimpressive mother-hen, more comfortable in life’s behind-the-scenes quarters. But when we are faithful to bring our meagre portions, God multiplies them for His glory. This makes me and others who may not have been blessed with social prowess uniquely primed for worship. We can happily bring the focus away from ourselves, onto the One worthy of all glory, honour, and praises, who fills empty cups, brings newness of life, and makes streams in the desert. We can be confidently small in worship, whether part of a 100s strong choir or with a small band and congregation, doing what we’re made for; glorifying the One, immeasurably big God.
No comments yet