Yesterday was Sunday, the day set apart to rest and to meet God. I was invited to participate on the music team, which is a gift to me. I enjoy it so much and don’t get to do it very often–we have so many talented musicians at our church, and truth be told, I am only an average singer, if that. I was so looking forward to it. Then, as I prepared to hop in the shower, I got a call from my husband, asking me to bring his gig bag to church. “Wait,” I said, “Is music rehearsal starting at 8:30?” He confirmed, and I flew into a tizzy. Fast shower, got dressed, brewed my tea, grabbed the gig bag, my purse and flew out the door….locking myself out with no car keys. After a panicked call to my husband, he reminded me that we had put a set of keys outside for our dogsitter, I got back into the house, got the car keys, shoved off to church, arriving 20 minutes late to rehearsal, dragging my husband’s gig bag and suddenly realizing I had left the beautiful Ash Wednesday flyers on the dining room table.
Needless to say, I was not practicing the presence of Christ.
As we rehearsed, it was clear I wasn’t the only one who was off. The other vocalist was having trouble getting her voice warmed up, the young man playing guitar couldn’t find the downbeat, my husband had to keep getting up from the drums to adjust the sound system, which was on the verge of feeding back.
Somewhere in the midst of this I began to realize I was in a bad way. I began to commiserate with the other vocalist, exercising some of the frustration of the morning. I indulged in some “grmphs” and “harumphs,” attempting to release them to God rather than aim them at any particular person. I started to pray a non-verbal prayer that would have sounded a bit like “bblaaakkkk.” By the time those leading the service had gathered for prayer, I was able to earnestly pray for grace to overcome the black cloud of the morning.
…And somehow, within the first two songs, we were all worshiping God together.
Lord, thank you for your grace which overcomes our grumpiness, our black clouds, our petty inconveniences. Thank you for doing this not just for our selves, but for the sake of others. And thank you again that people aren’t always in my head to know what I am thinking. Amen.