It has been three long weeks since my last blog entry… by far the longest hiatus since I started this blog three and a half years ago … due partly to the typical craziness of the holidays, and due as well to the lingering shock and sadness over our friend Sam’s death. Add it up and it equals one colossal case of writer’s block. But today, the block is lifting a bit… which is a lovely feeling.
I’ve experienced a lot of joys and even a couple of thrills during the last three weeks, but the first story that comes to mind is of a simple little moment that occurred during the 11:00 Christmas Eve candlelight service at Holy Communion. It was a service filled to the brim with music, lovingly and joyfully offered up by the senior choir, Ann Lemar Heide on the violin, and Liz Christiansen on the gockenspiel. Liz played along on the hymns, and there was something so delightful about that refreshing “ting” that rang out so easily above the sound of the pipe organ and the congregation’s voices. She also played along with the choir as they sang John Michael Talbot’s “Wonderful Counselor,” and it was the musical equivalent of icing on a doughnut. (After much thought, that’s my top choice for a metaphor to describe what a lovely addition this was to an already lovely song.)
I don’t remember exactly when this happened in the service, but during one of the congregational hymns a little girl suddenly appeared in the back balcony – Kathy estimated her to be about 7 years old – peering through the doorway at the top of the stairs. She was by herself (no sign of a parent, grandparent or sibling with her) and looked a little uncertain or even lost. Kathy was the choir member sitting closest to the door, so she stepped over to see what the little girl wanted. The youngster whispered something into her ear but Kathy couldn’t quite make it out, so they stepped into the stairway where it was a little quieter. That’s when she told Kathy that she had heard the sound of the bells and wondered where it was coming from and what exactly was causing that beautiful sound. Smiling, Kathy gently led the little youngster into the balcony and right next to Liz and the glittering glockenspiel she was playing. This little girl stood there for about ten seconds or so, transfixed, and then – just like that – was gone.
It was a lovely, moving moment – and also a little bit odd. But isn’t that part of what Christmas is all about? A teenager chosen to be the mother of the messiah. . . a baby born in a barn. . . shepherds cowering before a sky full of angels. . . one intriguing surprise after another! And isn’t it about following the sound of angels singing or bells ringing, even if that takes us a long way from home – or from our comfortable place in the pew?
pictured at the top: That’s the “mystery girl,” watching Liz play the glockenspiel. And literally a second after i snapped this picture, she was gone.
