Deep Peace

It is Thursday night. It has been a very long couple of days, and earlier this evening I described myself as feeling like an old dish rag, used up and wrung out. Battling with learning about computer functions, programming (?), upgrades. Doing battle with my bank. Getting really upset and angry with the bank situation - which equals, in my case, crying about it.

[Side note ~ I wish that I could get angry and upset and just - be angry and upset. The tears come, every time. And I feel weak and stupid for crying at a time when I feel I should be more powerful and focused. It is the time when I feel most like a "stupid girl" instead of an empowered woman. Half a century into this life, and I'm still doing the crying thing. Don't get me wrong: I think crying is a good and important thing to do. Just... not when one should be making a point, or standing up for one's self.]

Okay, so all wrung out. But by late afternoon, a few things changed. I did some baking. I got a call from T. to go have a coffee break, and we sat out on the sidewalk sipping our beverages and just talking about our feelings. I could feel the pressure just seep away... and I was looking forward to choir rehearsal tonight.

I love choir because I love to sing, and I still feel like I don't sing enough. I love choir because T. is there, and so many of my dear, dear friends are there, and I just love being with those people. I love choir because I come away feeling more centered than I did coming in.

Our anthem for Sunday is an acapella piece that T. wrote months ago, not knowing the circumstance under which it would ultimately be sung. He dedicated it to B., who is struggling with cancer and putting up a real tough fight. The words are a Gaelic blessing, arranged by John Rutter:

Deep peace of the running wave to you.
Deep peace of the flowing air to you.
Deep peace of the quiet earth to you.
Deep peace of the shining stars to you.
Deep peace of the gentle night to you.
Moon and stars pour their healing light on you.
Deep peace of Christ,
the light of the world to you.

I had a feeling about this particular choir practice. We had a death in our congregation last week, B.'s husband. It was sudden and jarring, and we are still trying to wrap our minds around the loss. Sweet B. is doing well - considering everything, remarkably well. She was there tonight, and we all got to sit and just be with her. Folks asked gentle questions about how she and the kids are doing, what sort of things she'd like for the memorial service... and we all just sat together like a family and loved her. It was a precious, sacred time.

When it was time to go, K. suggested a song. We sang "Breathe on Me, Breath of God", and it was... perfect. A beautiful ending to a sacred time.

Breathe on me, breath of God,
Fill me with life anew,
That I may love what Thou dost love,
And do what Thou wouldst do.

Breathe on me, breath of God,
Until my heart is pure,
Until with thee I will one will,
To do and to endure.

Breathe on me, breath of God,
Till I am wholly thine,
Until this earthly part of me
Glows with thy fire divine.

Breathe on me, breath of God,
So shall I never die,
But live with thee the perfect life
Of thine eternity.