A contrast, you think? One dark, one light? One sad, one happy?
Kind of.
One thing I love about being church pianist is having an excuse to spend so much time in the church sanctuary. I love the building itself, the wooden beams and the way the sunlight comes golden through the windows when the building is empty. I love the smell and the way there's usually a half-erased Sunday school lesson on the chalkboard in room 101. I love to hear the building filled with song on a Sunday morning, or to sing there alone on a weekday afternoon, reflecting on the smallness one voice and God's vast goodness to incline His ear and listen anyway.
Most of all I love the memories I have in that building.
It's hard to say which memories stick out most. Certainly at the top are the homecomings, funerals, weddings, and baby dedications. Those were the times we were pulled together as one body and one family to share tears of joy or sorrow -- and to acknowledge our helplessness apart from our Savior.
They're times we came together to acknowledge something only God could do. And to do that in His house.
It would be impossible to shake the memories of funerals we've had in that building.
I'm glad.
So, today, when I was thinking about the contrast between the ending and the beginning, the funeral of a widow and the celebration of a bride, I was thinking mostly about how they were really two parts of the same thing: life on this broken, helpless earth.
But it's an earth with a Redeemer.
God glories in the wife and widow who lived her life fully in the service of others. And He glories in the radiant young bride who joyfully promises her self and life to a loving husband. In each instance He shows us our helplessness and His amazing sufficiency. In each instance He does something only He could do.
No wonder it's so good to be in His house.
Blessed are those who dwell in Your house;
They will still be praising You. Selah
Blessed is the man whose strength is in You,
Whose heart is set on pilgrimage.
-- Psalm 84:4-5
2 comments:
That's beautiful :)You truly are a writer!
I feel the same way about my home church. It turns 150 this May. I love to sit in the old sanctuary, close my eyes and feel the spirit of the Lord. I think of the history of the church and all the faithful who have gone before me. It reminds me how inconsiqental I am and how in need of God I am.
Thank you, #1! You have an amazing God-given gift. He (God) also glories in the way a young woman writes so wondrously of her Savior.
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