I like to write. Always have. Usually I am pretty good at it. I'm also pretty good at procrastinating writing, but I ran across a Facebook posting forwarded to me and I was both touched and humbled by the message. It was so good that I'm going to share some of it now.
She'd been brought up as a Methodist. She went to church camps and was active along with the rest of her family. But she went off to college and after a few Saturday night keg parties, church became not so important. Later, in graduate school, she felt a strong bias against religion in her department so she took the message to heart and lived it for about 20 years.
But she never got over the music. Her parent sang in the church choir and she loved Beethoven and Bach, Handel and Schubert. That stuff gets in your blood, in your bones.
So there she was with a friend, one cold December morning, two decades later, listening to the choir and crying like a baby as the words rolled over her "…and his name shall be called Counselor, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace." Something happened and her heart just cracked wide open.
When the service was over she walked her shaken self up to the choir director and joined the choir. During the next Sunday she was shocked that she remember so many words: The Gloria, The Lord's Prayer, The Doxology. The words came back like lost friends--who knew she'd missed them? Splendid, humbling, beautiful, brave words!! But it felt right, like coming home. Music, love, faith…true things intertwined in the world.
In faith, Annette