I think I had a significant moment on Sunday. I mean I like to think I have a lot of self awareness going on, I like to believe that I think things through carefully without over-thinking them (anymore).
Bottom line - our Easter church service was awesome. There was a volunteer choir, which Mandy and I were both a part of. Samantha went to Sunday School and ended up sitting with Omi & Opa for the service, so everyone was taken care of (Friday Samantha was sitting by herself in the back of the pews, Dad was sitting in the balcony, by himself - I hate that, she was of course fine as was dad, but my heart just can't handle the fact that either one of them may have felt lonely. OOPS - would that qualify as over thinking???).
Everyone was dressed in their version of Sunday best. Lots of bright colours, new outfits and big smiles. The energy was great from the get go. Extra family members and visitors were in abundance and filled the pews much more than our normal service. And the choir!! The choir kicked A** (can I say that?). Our guest conductor was vibrant and ready to go, guest pianist, Mel, added more notes than most people knew what to do with. I must say that when we sang "Alleluia He Is Coming" with the congregation I actually had to put the music down. I know the song off by heart and trying to follow along to sing it "right" was totally messing me up. We sang SO much. It told the story, it moved people to tears - and clapping!! 3 times the congregation clapped. I don't know about you, but years gone by you just did NOT clap in my church. Some kind of unwritten rule - clapping assumes someone has performed for you, in church we don't perform - we worship. Well considering my church is not the type to yell AMEN, or PRAISE THE LORD in appreciation for the feelings let loose by music (perhaps it should be) being brave enough to start the clapping is nothing short of HERO in my books. Its either that, or we're going to have to teach everyone the meaning of "jazz hands".
Being in the choir loft really opens a window to those sitting in the congregation. I was able to see the looks on people's faces. They said a lot. Some people would close their eyes and take it all in, others were openly wiping the tears away. This service MOVED you. It moved me.
The only not so bright spot of the morning was the sermon itself. It was the kind you would fast forward. Message - good. Delivery - oh so bad, ok fine the message lacked a little too. I pretty much had to put that aside and carry the rest of the service home with me. Oh right - and that one "sharing" item. At the end of each service someone brings a mic around for people to share their joys and concerns. What in the world was that mom thinking when she announced that her little boys boots had walked off without him last Sunday. Can you say spoil the mood???? The number of feet that could have fit those boots is alarmingly small. She could have just asked the small number of families that these boots would apply to. Again, I let it go - I think.
How grateful am I that I can pray and worship in safety and peace.
How grateful am I that Jesus died on the cross - for me.
How amazed am I that I need to journal this.
How much do I wish you had been there to feel, see and hear what I did.