After all, I want Jesus to stay right by me the rest of the year, so why not His story?
This particular holiday season was hectic for us beyond the usual programs and concerts, so I ended the year feeling like I really hadn't done the Christmas carols thing this year. Not that I was going to do anything about it, mind you, but I did notice.
Some of my piano students agree with me about Christmas music all year; others don't. The ones who agree get to keep their Christmas music out as long as they'd like--which is why I ended up with one student practicing Christmas through January, and why I started another one on Christmas music in February, for the reading skills, of course.
Is that what led to opening up some Christmas music and playing it during my supper preparations this evening?
Whatever made me do it, those piano sounds turned me teary-eyed pretty quickly.
It came upon a midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth
To touch their harps of gold:
"Peace on the earth, good will to men,
From heaven's all-gracious King;"
The world in solemn stillness lay,
To hear the angels sing.
My heart once more had no words, no words for the dear ones I know who right now suffer fear, worry, anxiety, sickness.
Still through the cloven skies they come,
With peaceful wings unfurled,
And still their heavenly music floats
O'er all the weary world;
Above its sad and lowly plains
They bend on hovering wing,
And ever o'er its Babel sounds
The blessed angels sing.
And once more, my prayer, my hopes for them ascended high, pleading that these same angels would come and brighten the path for my dear ones.
And ye, beneath life's crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow--
Look now! for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing;
O rest beside the weary road,
And hear the angels sing.
Once more through a hymn words of faith crept into my mind, offering their hope not just to me, but to my dear ones, too.
After all, Jesus still offers rest beside the weary road, even if it's February instead of December.
