Susan LaffertyWorship. In a small house group, I watch one woman sing with such joy. Tears, even.
Midlife at the time, I’ve fallen into unhealthy patterns. Critiquing content and structure. Or impatience with those leading in services and retreats.
Prideful. And forgetting priority.
Losing focus of the One we worship.
Christmas prophecies. Read and proclaimed. Every Advent. Christmas Eve. Christmas Day.
Among them, Isaiah’s words.
“For to us a child is born,
to us a Son is given,
and the government will be
on his shoulders.
And he will be called Wonderful Counselor,
Mighty God, Everlasting Father,
Prince of Peace.”
Isaiah 9:6
“There’s a song in the air. There’s a star in the sky.”
It was always my favorite carol as a kid. At Christmas.
Years later. In a country with only a small percentage of believers. I was walking through a department store one day and suddenly stopped. Listened.
Christmas music was in the air. Playing over the sound system. Lyrics and all.
“…O come let us adore Him, Christ the Lord!”
