Tenderness of Life

I think maybe it's an age thing but I feel so tender about life these days. This morning I read in the paper about four fire fighters perishing as they struggled against the huge fire that is raging here in California. I looked at the photo of the fire chief who was the father of five and I started to cry thinking about his family's loss. Byron's cousin, Judy, was killed in a car accident last weekend. I hardly knew her but I look at her photo and read about her life and I feel this ache to know that she is gone. Jenelle has been grieving the death of a friend who took her own life and the up-coming deployment of a close friend to Iraq.

Yet it's not just loss that is making me feel so tender. I read about Kelly and April's new baby, Alleke and I feel sort of weepy. The fragile beauty of new life can put a lump in my throat!

Today I went to chapel at Heather's school because her class was leading it with a reader's theater production of the story of Noah. Very sweet. Chapel began with worship. It was the simplest thing ever--taped music playing as the kids sang along. We sang with them. We sang Chris Tomlin's How Great is Our God and I stood there in a room full of little ones and a handful of adults struggling fairly hard not to fall apart. Yes, it's a pretty song with lovely words. But I don't think that is what moved me.

Standing there singing I could only picture the faces of people we have worshipped with. Of course I always imagine myself in the midst of the Matrix , which can put me over the edge immediately. But I was seeing others from the rest of the CA family. Sophie's sweet face. Phil practically stamping his worship. Darrin with eyes closed. Deela. It wasn't just worshipping that moved me. It was the memory of worshipping in community, the feeling of being bonded with others and loving God together with them. That is such a sweet thing.

Weepy me.