An 'Awesome' Sunday

I am not at all in the habit of using the word "awesome" to describe things, but in light of the great blessing the Lord gave me in this Sunday, I think it's almost worthy of the word.

The morning dawned beautifully. I went up to The Grandparents' to fix their breakfast (we've been taking turns doing that - it makes it easier for them on a busy morning trying to get ready for church), and the air had a little chill in it, but the sunshine was warm and sweet.
I finished helping them, and came back to the house, in high spirits and ready for my own breakfast, looking forward to a morning at the Lord's house. Later as I was getting ready, I got a message from Noel, reminding everyone that this morning was the start of Justice's New Testament Survey Sunday school class, and I felt an even greater expectation!

Justice was making the class available to whoever wanted to take it in the church, not just the college class, so Dad and Mom had signed up to take it as well. Because it was going to be more people than usual, we were going to meet in the larger classroom downstairs under the youth room, in the gym across the street from the church building. We were running a little late, so we parked in the small lot behind the church (closer to the gym), and as Dad and Mom gathered their Bibles and things, they told Trissy and me to go ahead and go to the classroom, so Justice would know we were there and on our way.

Trissy and I started across the little lot behind the church building, toward the street that separates the church from the gym and it's parking lot and the big, empty, grassy lot that also serves as spare parking space. The morning sun was beautiful, the air was crisp and clear, and we strolled along breathing deeply of the Spring sweetness.
Trissy suddenly called my attention to a tall young figure crossing the grassy lot quite a ways ahead of us. It was Law, heading to his Sunday School class in the youth room.
"There goes Mr. S." she commented, smiling.
I looked up. "Mmhmm" I hadn't noticed him yet, but his bright red polo made him hard to miss.
He strode along comfortably with a firm, unhurried step, his shoulders straight and his head up, moving gently, as if he were enjoying the beautiful morning. Less than a year ago, he would have ambled indifferently along, his shoulders slumped a little forward, and his gaze for the most part turned downward.
Taking note of the difference, my heart felt fit to burst with thankfulness for the Lord's work in that young heart.

Justice was the only one in the classroom when we walked in, but his mom was right behind us, then Noel, Autumn, and Aron's cousin's husband. Toby hobbled in, his leg in a brace after surgery for a torn ACL, and another older couple filled out the class. Justice said Austin was going to be leading the music service this morning, and he was getting the last details taken care of, so he and Ava might be late. We went ahead and started, but they came in pretty soon.
It was a good class, and I think we're going to learn alot. And such a wonderful, comfortable, combination of old times and new times! The thought kept running through my mind, "This is so right. This feels so right."

Later in the choir room, as the choir members trickled in, Lindsay (who has been singing with us off-and-on for several months) came up to me, said good morning, and shyly gave me what I call a 'greeting hug' (which I kindof explain in this post :) ). As she stepped back, she said, in her soft feminine way, 'You look pretty today. Well,' she paused and tilted her head as if correcting herself, 'you always look pretty. I love your hair.'
I was caught off guard.
'Aw,' I kindof ducked my head, and smiled in confusion, 'Thank you!'
I didn't know what to say! I was completely taken by surprise. Seldom am I told that I am pretty - which is convenient, because I know it's not true, and it's nice to not have to try to come up with a polite response.
But coming from a modern teen-age girl, it meant so much - to think that maybe I had been able to influence her enough as a friend for her to want to reach back out to me in her own way.

As the choir walked out in our single-file line, I saw that, not only was Austin leading, but the instruments were switched up too.
Usually, Bro. Blake leads, Lydia plays acoustic guitar, Austin is on electric, and Bro. Dennis on bass, with Simon on drums, and a young woman of the church (whose husband is a veterinarian - just a random FYI fact :) ) plays the piano. This morning though, Austin was playing acoustic guitar (in addition to leading the singing), Bro. Dennis was on electric, and Law on bass! I don't think Law has been on bass for a Sunday morning service since Bro. Blake was put in charge of the music. Simon was still on drums and the lady on the piano, but Bro. Blake was incorporating some extra percussion (tambourine and cajon) that isn't usually used.
Walking out and seeing this setup rejoiced my heart.
And the service just kept getting better as we began to sing.

My heart was so glad. I kept getting that thought again, "This is right. This is so right."

I know that, as a child of God, my joy is not dependent on my circumstances. The Lord never changes; He remains the amazing, caring, dependable, trustworthy Friend that He was when I first met Him. He will never go somewhere where I cannot be around Him anymore. He will never disappoint me. He will never make a mistake or let me down. He is always available to put His arms around me and let me lean into Him. He is the true source of anything good or enjoyable that is part of my life. HE is.
And yet I would be denying a fact of life if I tried to pretend that circumstances do not influence the way a Christian feels. Christians are not immune to sorrow or happiness. They are just as prone to emotion, doubt, struggle, and soaring victory as a person is who does not know God. The difference is that we have the Lord as our Friend and help. He guides us and helps us through difficult, as well as victorious times. And He uses both the really hard and the really great times to mold us into who He wants us to be.

Today was one of those really great days.

I guess pretty much the only thing that happened to mar the beauty of the day, was choir practice.
There were alot of people out, I guess because of Spring Break, and it was a really small crowd. There were only two in the 'men' (tenor and bass) section, and those were the two fifth-grade boys who have been singing with us for the past couple of months. I sing tenor, so when I went up into the choir, I sat by them.
I'm thankful to say that Bro. Dennis still comes and sings in the choir, even though he technically doesn't even have to be there anymore. There's usually at least one other man that is there to sing tenor, but he wasn't there this afternoon. So when Bro. Dennis came in a little late, I moved over a space, so he could sit next to the boys.
I pretty much couldn't concentrate the rest of practice. We were working on songs from a book Bro. Dennis had used with us last year. And here he was, in the choir instead of leading it. Sitting next to me, and yet a stranger. The man who taught me as much (probably more) about practical Christian living, about how to knowledgeably yet respectfully defend the Faith, about choosing joy, about reliance on and faith in the sovereignty of God, than any other preacher or teacher I've ever had. One of my heroes of the Faith. Just, gone.
I didn't feel that bitter piercing pain, only a dull sad ache. How I wished that I dared turn to him and say simply, "I miss you."
Of course I didn't, but I couldn't help but wonder, what would happen if I did? Inside, my heart spoke quietly on; quiet, but so deeply hurting. "I miss you. Why did you leave? Where did you go? Will you ever come back? I know you're still in there somewhere. Aren't you? Do you even exist anymore? Deep down, are you still in there, or is this stranger here to stay? To replace you? Please come back. I miss you. And I'm not the only one. Do you not see the pain in the eyes of others here who love you?"
My mind wandered to memories of happy choir practices only a couple of years ago. When Bro. Jack and Mrs. Janet, Bro. Mike and Camille, Mrs Carrie, Mrs. Renae, and Bro. Blake were still in it. When laughter and music were strong because they went together. When Bro. Dennis's merry heart and musical knowledge refused to be beaten by our amateurity, and he'd whip us into shape with his wit and talent.
Yeah, choir practice was really hard.

But aside from that, the rest of the evening was pleasant. And after church, our college fellowship supper was at Austin and Ava's. They made spaghetti together - dear Ava's biggest source of remorse is the fact that she can't cook. But she's serious about learning, and her experiments so far have turned out quite well. I hate to be at someone's house without helping out somehow, so she put me and Aron's little cousin to making garlic bread. Aron, Henley, and Timothy were there, Aron's cousin and her husband, toddler son, and little sister, Justice and Noel and Justice's younger brother Tanner, Austin and Ava of course, and me. Trissy was tired out from a long week of school, so she didn't go.
It seemed like such a small group, but it was pleasant and relaxing.
After supper, the guys were outside trying to fix Tanner's truck that wouldn't start, Aron and Henley and Aron's cousin's family had already left to get the kids to bed, and Noel was watching the progress on the truck. I made Ava let me help her clean the kitchen, and we had a good talk about plans for the future, how God uses events in our lives, and how He's been working recently, as I washed and she dried and put away the dishes.
We were nearly done. The guys had gotten Tanner's truck running, and they came in to see how we were getting along before Justice, Noel, and Tanner said goodnight and left.
I finished drying the salad tongs that had been used to serve the spaghetti noodles, and asked where they were supposed to be put. Austin opened a drawer.
"Oh. These are salad tongs." I said as I put them in, pretending to just then figure out their use. "Salad tongs." I emphasized to Austin, waving my hands under his nose as he bent to shut the drawer.
'Yeah, that's why we're using them for spaghetti,' he returned, completely unruffled. Austin does not like vegetables.
Ava spoke up from where she was putting up the plates. 'Austin doesn't really eat salads.' She made a disapproving face.
'Don't worry,' I reassured her, as Austin took the towel from me to dry his hands and I turned back to the sink for another dish. 'We'll convert him yet.'
Austin finished drying his hands. 'Good luck,' he replied. He draped the towel over my shoulder, patted it sympathetically, and left the kitchen. Ava and I looked at each other and chuckled.

I enjoyed the drive back to the house, tired but happily reliving the memories of the wonderful day. I turned off the highway onto our dirt road and drove slowly up the little hill, savoring the sight of the bright summer stars above the cool smoothness of the pasture grass on my left. I turned into our drive on the right and parked, got out, and walked back to the end of the drive - which faces that pasture - and stood at the end, staring up at the stars. The air had that delicate yet hardy touch of cool-in-warmth that is so typical of Spring evenings. It wasn't cool, it wasn't warm, it was fresh and it was perfect. I saw the tiny blinking lights of two airplanes and the darting path of a shooting star. My heart was so full.
I stood there quite a while, wishing I could look for hours, and resolving that I was going to spend the night sleeping under the stars some day.
When I turned to go back to the house though, the picture that met my sight touched my heart just as strongly as the one I was turning from, though in a completely different way.
Our house (it's actually a double-wide trailer that Dad's improved and built on to), sits back a little from the dirt road. The front outside light was on, and the big oak in our front yard was a radiating silhouette, lit up magically by the light behind it. The windows of the house glowed a cozy golden. My steps made a satisfying crunching sound on the gravelly drive, and my heart was leaning considerably to the lighter side as I went in.