Peace

I trudged through snow on the sidewalks, stumbling a few times as my feet slipped. The wind was strong and pushed hard against my body. I had to grasp the collar of my coat to hold my hood on tight around my face as icy fingers of the wind pinched my cheeks. It was colder and windier than I had thought when I left the house.

It was only a few minutes to walk to the church, but oh so wintery. Songs of Christmases of old would have highlighted my journey to the old building beautifully. "Oh the weather outside is frightful ..." was the theme. When I approached the church, the woman in front of me was wearing slipper-like shoes over her bare feet as she sloshed through the snowy path from her car to the church steps. I shivered for her. 

But now I had arrived. 

Shaking snow off my coat, and with my glasses instantly and frustratingly fogging up the second I stepped into the warm building, I quickly found my seat in an old pew. My Dad sat there waiting. This was my Mom's choir concert that we had gathered in the old church to hear.

The large room was decorated for the celebration of the season. Lights and green boughs draped over the railings of the balcony above my head. A spectacular Christmas tree sat at the front of the church, and candles flickered around the room. The pipes of a great old pipe organ rose above it all, looking like soldiers watching over the congregation. 

And then, peace.

It came, it fell, it covered. 

It was found in the shelter from the cold, blustery weather outside. It was found in the familiar presence of my dad. It was found in the anticipation of singing voices about to harmonize and offer their gifts of music. It was found in the being still, in the sitting in awe of the beauty, in the holiness of the place, pointing to the One whom it's all about. 

A little insight into my world ~ for an extended season, it has not been what I would describe as a place where peace lives. The storm outside on my walk to the church more aptly describes what my life, my experience has been for so, so long. Sometimes I forget what it's really like. Peace.

Being still. Soaking in beauty. Resting in hope. A shelter from the storm. 

But for a couple of hours, out of the storm I allowed it to take some space. And it was good. 

We were invited to join the choir in singing some Christmas carols. There was a unifying among all the people, strangers and friends. Singing songs we all knew. The room erupted in musical notes and rhythms. 

"Noel, noel, born is the King of Israel. ~ Joy to the world! ~ Oh, morning stars, together proclaim the holy birth, and praises sing to God the King, and peace to men on earth."

Peace. Peace.