One day at a time...

I kept meaning to write about Easter, and  it was was never happening. Then, I got our Messenger from All Souls' Parish, and well, Bruce said it all.

I reprduce it here:

If you missed the Palm Sunday service, you missed something special. The choir did a cantata that was based on some familiar hymns and some original music. But between the singing there was narration that came from the gospel accounts of Holy Week. The choir did an all right presentation of the music, but what you really missed if you missed it was Jim Taylor’s reading of the narration. During the Prayers of the People, I thanked Jim and said "Joanna (our minister of music) told Jim following rehearsal, ‘That was perfect.’ She did not however say that to the choir."

Jim really did do a fine job, and talking to him later he said that the best part was seeing what happened during rehearsal with Joanna and the choir. He thought everyone should get the chance to see that. I am not so sure I agree with that estimation. You see for all the relatively good music that comes out of the choir, you would oft times not guess that it was possible if you sat in on a rehearsal. We go over the same spots that you would think after the fourth or fifth time we would get. We pronounce words together so we all say "dih-light" rather than "dee-light". There will always be the one entrance that each time we practice it the pitch seems to elude one section or another. And then there are the sidebars that we have in the choir, you know those little comments that really are kind of funny, but would drive a lesser person than Joanna to distraction. And Jim said that was the best part of it all? My only guess is that he was amazed that Joanna can get any kind of reasonable music out of us come Sunday morning, but it happens, unbelievably it happens. It may be like what they say about seeing sausage being made, not the prettiest sight, but it still tastes good.

I’m not suggesting that the choir is anything more or less than it is – a group of people who love to sing together for the glory of God. We aren’t that great. We don’t have the best voices around (Well except for Grace, our soprano section leader and soloist. She is special.). We don’t all read music all that well, but somehow it all happens. While Joanna is the best minister of music I have had the privilege of working with, I can’t even give her all the credit.

There is just something that happens, and I think it goes back to what I first said about the choir. We are a group of people who love to sing together for the glory of God. That’s finally what carries the day, not our individual voices, not the attention we pay (or more likely don’t pay) to the director, not the clear diction we employ, not the hours of rehearsal. It is the love of singing for the glory of God. It is not THE CHOIR WILL NOW PERFORM……as though we are on stage or something. It is rather an offering by a dedicated group of Christians who want to glorify God with the gifts (great and small) that they have been given. The choir really doesn’t perform on Sunday mornings. They lead us hopefully to a deeper place of worship and praise. And if you don’t think that is a miracle given what our rehearsals are like, just ask Jim.

That is the miracle of not just the choir, but of the church, of this Easter people. God somehow takes us, this broken mass of humanity who is irreverent and not all that talented, and says, "I will be your God and you will be my people." And because we believe that and we want to love God back, we, even we, can do great things. Happy Easter.

Christ is Risen.

He is Risen, Indeed.

Sound chips and Build-a Bear memories

This Friday, Good Friday, is the 4th anniversary of my Mother's Death.

4 years since I spoke to her last.

4 years since I touched her hands, her face.

4 years since I smelled that smell that was uniquely her, all Mom, even under all the medical smells.

4 years since I told her I loved her.

Wasn't it just yesterday?   I know I still pick up the phone to call her, and  I hear her laugh at times, and really do see her out of the corner of my eye, but yes, it's been 4 years.

Oh, how I miss her. My heart aches. My kids are just jabbering on about her, letting me know that I did it, I fufilled her very last wish, to not be forgotten.  They play the "I remember when Babcia did this...." game, even if it implanted memories.  Ally broke my heart when she came up to me, eyes swimming in tears, and said, "Mommy, I can't remember Babcia's voice"  She told me  that she could hear her in her heart, but not in her ears- she couldn't remember her Grandmothers voice.

Aedan watched me sooth her, and queitly slipped away. He came back in a moment, carrying one of his most precious possessions.

"Ally, listen", and he pushed the button:

"Aedan, it's Babcia.  I want you to be a good boy, and grow up to be a nice man. I want you to rmember that Babcia loves you, Forever, and Ever. Bye-bye."

This was a message inplanted into a Build-A-Bear dog. I knew what would happen one day. My children were barely 2 & 5 when Mom died. I wanted them to remember.  So, on a trip to get my mom a wig that she decided not to ever wear, I stopped with her at a local Build-a-Bear store. I had called ahead, and spoke to the mananger.  And we made 2 little stuffed animals for the kids.

I know my heart broke even more than I thought was possible that day. I watched my mom cry as she recored messages for my children. How do you record a lifetime of love in a few seconds?  She did. She held those little hearts and wished all her grandma's love  onto them as she helped make toys her grandchldren  could hug, knowing that they wouldn't be able to hug her. A tangible link to her. Their link, personalized and just for them.

Ally's toy is broken now. The sound chip doens't work. I wish I could have it fixed, but the store says it can't be.   I have been hearing Aedan's talking a bit the past few days. They  miss her, too.

AN UPDATE :

BUILD-A-BEAR says tehy want to try and help me see if we can get Ally's bear talking again. I'm so hopefull that we can!

 

Prayer for Health

Have you ever met someone and instantly just loved them?  Known by just being with them for just a moment that they were good people?  That's how I felt immediately about Joanna Nilsen , the Minister of Music at our church, All Souls Parish.   Before I was in the choir, even before I was a member, probably the first time I ever met her I knew she was special.

Well, she's been sick lately, and it worries me. She's constantly dizzy and fuzzy headed and suffering from terrible headaches, even passing out.  She's been to the doctor, and ruled out a lot of the "bad"  stuff-  but they still don't know what's wrong with her. We pray  a lot for her.

Then, I remembered a prayer a volunteer gave to me while I was in the hospital.  I thought to share it Joanna, then thought to share it here, for all to see .

Heavenly Father,

I call on you right now in a special way. It is through your power that I was created.  Every breath I take, every morning I wake, and every moment of every hour I live under your power.

Father, I ask you now to touch me with that same power.  For if you created me from nothing, you can certainly recreate me.  Fill me with the healing power of your spirit. Cast out anything that should not be in me. Mend what is broken. Root out any unproductive cells. Open any blocked arteries or veins and rebuild any damaged areas. Remove all inflammation and cleanse any infection.

Let the warmth of your healing love pass through my body to make new any unhealthy areas so that my body will function the way created it to function.

And, Father, restore me to full health in mind and body so that I may serve you the rest of my life.

I ask this through Christ our Lord, Amen.

(Father Larry J. Hess)

I've prayed this prayer myself,and for Joanna. I hope we find out and cure soon what is wrong with Joanna. I hope that if anyone else needs a healing prayer, this one may help.  And, if you pray, please say a prayer for our Joanna, won't you? She makes a difference in a lot of people's lives.