Today in chapel, the wonderful and amazing Patrick (one of Selam’s fairy godfathers) led us in worship by singing some Alleluias. After 40+ days without them, they are manna to me.
And Patrick’s leadership–it’s always manna to me.
Anyway, we were in the chapel, and they’d taken the chairs away so we were standing in this loose circle of sorts. I could see most of everybody, and they could see me. And the acoustics in that space are just so tender and bright all at once. So the alleluias floated up and swirled around in a great tye-dye of color and shimmer and sound. And we were in the middle of all that sound–making it, hearing it, living it.
There are times when life is just so perfect that it actually hurts.And despite the fact that my shoes were tight and my head ached and I had fifty things to do and I’d just posted 20 flyers where the guest speaker’s name was misspelled, I was just so happy to be there. I began to choke up for no real reason other than that despite it all–the small and the large worries and the annoyances and the impending sad goodbyes to beloved colleagues, God is just so good. And there are no words for such things, just a sound.
“I am glad,” Selam said, “that Alleluia came back.”
We were home from church, sunning ourselves in the courtyard, and she had asked why we had sung hallelujah so many times in one service.
“Oh why is that?”
“Because it just sounds like God is laughing when you say it. Or maybe even like a cartwheel.”
And then her hands and legs moved in succession–hand, hand, foot, foot, and solid green grass.