On this Sunday, I woke feeling so many things. Sadness for those with lay-offs, healing for those with this nasty flu, concern for a tsunami in Alaska, loss for those who have lost loved ones, and the list goes on.
It is still Christmas-time at church. The advent candles are still lit. The Christmas tree is still decorated. There are candles in the window with holly. And the nativity on the altar.
The nativity has these beautiful ceramic pieces, off-white, and glazed. They shine in the light of the sanctuary and the candles. The angel sits up a bit higher than the rest. It was the angel that my eyes lit on most during the service.
I sat with friends, and my mom sat two rows back with her friends. We sang hymns of love and hope. We prayed for God to remain with us. And the angel sparkled all the while.
By the end of the service, I felt hopeful. Friends, prayer, music, and the peace the angel brings: With these I feel refreshed. My heart lighter. The smile allowed back on my lips and in my heart.
Morale of the Story: Hope spring eternal. Sometimes I just need a few drops from that spring to fall on me to be reminded.