some days are like that

Some Sundays require holy naps.

This Sunday was one.  The church had turned its soul inside out to provide a beautiful service of Lessons and Carols.  During the second service the music and power of community blessed.  Between services a tea was offered by some of the pillars of the church.

It was a stunning morning.  And, I was beat.  I came home and put myself to bed.

After a fine sleep feast, I attended the Christmas Pageant at Cooper’s church.   The place was packed full of moms and dads and grandparents and church members and kids adorned with angel costumes and shepherd’s duds.  The energy of expectation was palpable.

We began with hearing a youth orchestra play, followed by a children’s choir singing about how powerful it is to share light in this world.

During the congregational singing of “Hark the Herald Angels Sing” the tears stoppered inside of me started to flow.  I was sitting next to my husband in worship, which I never get to do.  I was surrounded by a people who needed to tell a story of good news and grace.  There was pride and joy and wonder in the air.

I needed it.

Sometimes the relational freight of being church near breaks my heart.  The squabbles and misunderstandings and wound scraping seep into my soul and the grief of it becomes climb-into-bed powerful.  Like many in the season of early nights, I can wonder if the light will shine again with warmth and promise.

And then I am enfolded into a people who share the good news of the Word Made Flesh with gusto.  The reason for the season is so clear:  we are to be enfleshed love, sharing light even when the times of darkness seem near overwhelming. We need each other in order to remember who we are.

This was a day of proclamation:  Through the strings and voices at the Lessons and Carols service, through the cello and gentle of the Living Waters worship, through the sharing of sugar and warmth at the Christmas Tea, and through the raucous and tender way the story of the birth of Love was shared at Minnehaha UMC.

We remember who we are.  We are a people awaiting a rebirth a wonder.

Thank God for the call to come, to bow, and to weep for the beauty of it all.

 

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