Silent Night...Holy Night
This morning I found my way back to my normal routine.
A routine that includes waking up Emma, preparing my lunch, making sure that everyone has breakfast and heading to the gym.
I've been back from a pilgrimage to the Holy Lands for four days now. I've stood in the pulpit that God has given me here at Morton Memorial UMC to proclaim the Good News. I've walked through the jet-lag and unlike my fellow pilgrims I was 'back' yesterday. I've gone to get groceries and put them all away. I have planned our meals for the week. I made sure that all the laundry was washed, dried, ironed and put away. Today should not have been any different, it should have not have been as strange as it was.
But this morning was different. The silence of the morning, the dew still hanging on the grass and the sun slowing rising above our sweet mountain gave way to something greater.
While I was riding the stationary bike at the gym I simply put my iPod on shuffle. I haven't been to the gym in a month now due to family vacation and the pilgrimage to the Holy Lands. As the hills rose on the screen before me and the resistance on the bike gained strength. I found myself struggling. I found myself shaking my head because it was as if I had never ridden the course that I had chosen. The songs coming through my headphones weren't helping. The songs weren't taking my mind off the hills that lie before me.
Then as the iPod made a new selection, there came the soft tone of a song that I know by heart. It was a song that might have seemed out of place on this September morning, but for me it wasn't out of place at all. I turned up the volume closed and eyes and I was there in the words, singing in full voice (in my head of course!!).
Silent Night
Holy Night
All is calm
All is bright
Just a few days ago, we stood in the cave of the Church of the Nativity. A few days ago we raised our voices in the hustle and bustle of all that was going on and remembered the holy night in which Jesus entered this world.
There in the Church of the Nativity we were reminded of the pressure that must have been upon Mary and Joseph as they came into the city. A city that was full, packed to the brim (just like we were as pilgrims standing so close we could feel the heat radiating off of one another) and full of people trying to find their routine in the midst of being the Savior being born.
This morning as I rode the stationary bike, in my ordinary place I was reminded that every night is a holy night, every day has the awakening of calmness and that every single day no matter what the routine of my life brings that there is a bright and holy star lighting the way for me.
Today doesn't seem so strange anymore. I don't have the struggle to find the calmness or the peace. I don't have to feel like a failure when the resistance begins to press in. I don't have let the overwhelming to-do list take away the calm.
The Star, the holiness and the calm are all awaiting me.
Today I choose to touch the Star and to stand in the holiness of the bright and beautiful morning.
A routine that includes waking up Emma, preparing my lunch, making sure that everyone has breakfast and heading to the gym.
I've been back from a pilgrimage to the Holy Lands for four days now. I've stood in the pulpit that God has given me here at Morton Memorial UMC to proclaim the Good News. I've walked through the jet-lag and unlike my fellow pilgrims I was 'back' yesterday. I've gone to get groceries and put them all away. I have planned our meals for the week. I made sure that all the laundry was washed, dried, ironed and put away. Today should not have been any different, it should have not have been as strange as it was.
But this morning was different. The silence of the morning, the dew still hanging on the grass and the sun slowing rising above our sweet mountain gave way to something greater.
While I was riding the stationary bike at the gym I simply put my iPod on shuffle. I haven't been to the gym in a month now due to family vacation and the pilgrimage to the Holy Lands. As the hills rose on the screen before me and the resistance on the bike gained strength. I found myself struggling. I found myself shaking my head because it was as if I had never ridden the course that I had chosen. The songs coming through my headphones weren't helping. The songs weren't taking my mind off the hills that lie before me.
Then as the iPod made a new selection, there came the soft tone of a song that I know by heart. It was a song that might have seemed out of place on this September morning, but for me it wasn't out of place at all. I turned up the volume closed and eyes and I was there in the words, singing in full voice (in my head of course!!).
Silent Night
Holy Night
All is calm
All is bright
Just a few days ago, we stood in the cave of the Church of the Nativity. A few days ago we raised our voices in the hustle and bustle of all that was going on and remembered the holy night in which Jesus entered this world.
There in the Church of the Nativity we were reminded of the pressure that must have been upon Mary and Joseph as they came into the city. A city that was full, packed to the brim (just like we were as pilgrims standing so close we could feel the heat radiating off of one another) and full of people trying to find their routine in the midst of being the Savior being born.
This morning as I rode the stationary bike, in my ordinary place I was reminded that every night is a holy night, every day has the awakening of calmness and that every single day no matter what the routine of my life brings that there is a bright and holy star lighting the way for me.
Today doesn't seem so strange anymore. I don't have the struggle to find the calmness or the peace. I don't have to feel like a failure when the resistance begins to press in. I don't have let the overwhelming to-do list take away the calm.
The Star, the holiness and the calm are all awaiting me.
Today I choose to touch the Star and to stand in the holiness of the bright and beautiful morning.
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