I often sing without thinking.
So many songs have been on my rotation for so long that I have stopped noticing them, and even though I once examined the lyrics to be sure they fit me, I now spit them out mindlessly, my brain sensing it can sit back when I know the words in my heart.
For the Feast of Christ the King we sang “He is Exalted”. He is exalted, the King is exalted on high, I will praise him. With its repetitive form and gentle triple meter we were halfway through the B section before I knew what I was singing.
He is the Lord, forever his truth shall reign. Heaven and earth rejoice in his holy name! The text jolted me to awareness. I stood up straighter. Despite a few more masculine pronouns than I am comfortable with, I still believe this. I still rejoice in God’s holy name, despite a season of unanswered prayers, despite the slow drip of loss in my family, despite having been unbelievably transformed from well to sick, despite life simply being much harder now.
Miraculously I still have faith. It was miraculous I ever had it, even in a simpler time. Having a conviction in my deepest heart that God is good has been a constant in my life. I had to recalibrate the wheels of hope when life presented me with so many things that can’t be undone, but whatever that mysterious glowing hope is, it orbits a faith that I often forget.
Before mass I had spent some time thinking about life’s challenges, about the bad luck that has been thrown at me in the midst of all my blessings. I don’t believe examining the things I am angry or sad about is a sin. But what salvation it was when faith burst through my grievances and reminded me of the joy and exultation that lie so deep.
This is enough to be grateful for.
Leave a Reply