For most of us, there are several grand occasions in a calendar year, like Thanksgiving and Christmas, weddings, birthdays, even funerals. But life’s made up of all the in-between times. The days when it seems like nothing much is going on. Days marked by routines and even those bumbling, stumbling along days.
Thanksgiving came with Maggie bearing a pumpkin cheesecake for her Daddy and Kate braving an earache and strep throat, No raccoon fought me, this year, for our turkey. After Thanksgiving dinner, we sat around reading slips of paper on which we’d written words of gratitude. They weren’t things, for the most part. The basket contained thankfulness for family, friends, home, creativity, love,Popo. Some years there’s been more humor, less reflection. One slip read simply,”redemption.”
Sunday, my friend Joanna gave me a grand gift, we went to Symphony Hall in Boston to hear the Handel and Hayden Society present Handel’s Messiah. Soul tending lyrics with musical scores to match:
“Comfort ye, comfort ye my people.
‘Unto us a Child is born, and His name shall be called, Wonderful, Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace.”
“I know that my Redeemer liveth.”
Most of Symphony Hall stood for, “The Hallelujah Chorus” and then sat stirred by that grand finale, heaven-sent as choir and orchestra lifted us from the mire of “25 more shopping days until Christmas” to the only Gift that matters, the Lamb. “Worthy is the Lamb.”
And this Redeemer Lamb, Wonderful Lamb, Counsellor Lamb’s around for all the in-between times when nothing much seems to be happening but Life.
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