A few weeks ago, I wrote about how much I enjoy Sunday nights. They’re always so relaxing and rejuvenating.
Sunday mornings on the other hand…
Let’s just say that, more often than not, our poor old Buick gets driven like one of Ken Block’s rally cars, as we fly down the dirt roads, trying not to be late for church. I probably shouldn’t admit this, but I actually have powerslid through a corner once or twice…
By the time we skid to a stop in the church parking lot, our car is totally covered with mud or dust (it just depends on the time of year), but at least we’re in our seats before the meeting starts. Usually.
I really don’t know why it’s always so hard to get out the door on Sunday mornings. It just is. And unfortunately, the “I’m LATE!” stress and frustration often follows us into the chapel. Sometimes it takes a few minutes for me to actually calm down and appreciate being there.
I was in that same boat just last week…
Sure, we were in the chapel on time, but I was definitely not in the right frame of mind.
The bishop had already gotten up and welcomed everybody. The prayer had been said. The opening hymn had come and gone. The meeting was well underway, and I was still feeling totally frazzled.
But then the organist started playing the intro for the second hymn, and I finally looked up.
(It’s amazing how many problems get solved when you just look up).
Right above the pulpit, there’s a beautiful stained glass window of Jesus — and as I looked up at Him, with the bright morning sun shining directly through the window, it was just… I dunno…
The only words that really seem to fit don’t get used much in my daily vocabulary — but the whole scene was Magnificent. Glorious.
It’s no good trying to describe it; I just wish I could show it to you.
And then the congregation started singing:
He is risen! He is risen!
Tell it out with joyful voice.
He has burst his three days’ prison;
Let the whole wide earth rejoice.
Death is conquered; man is free.
Christ has won the victory.
All those petty frustrations and stress — gone.
In a very powerful and personal way, I was reminded about what really matters.
He Is Risen!
One Acre Lott 