today i left my darkened house and went up into the woods. i stopped and was very still for a long time before moving again, up and up into the notch and then back down. coming to a living body of water i stopped again to pray, and to wash my face and hands.
i don't know about the rest of you, but i'm a small soul in need of a lot of scrubbing up.
and then down and down and down, off the trail and onto the road, fast and faster, mud kicking up and we always say you know you've had a good day if you come home covered with dirt, smelling bad, and bleeding just a little.
so apparently i'd had a good day even though i was feeling kind of wrung out. but the sun was just sinking beyond the horizon as i racked my bike and i thought i had just enough time to take my new candle and catch the first star.
i had a while to wait yet, but it was warm and sunny here and the breeze blowing was warmer than the standing air because here at the foot of the mountain there's a temperature inversion.
so i'm outside, leaning back on the grass and then standing, waiting, craning my neck to see those first stars, waiting for that one moment, as if i did not know, could not comprehend that Christ will rise, has risen, that one night and this night now and always.
when you're looking for the first stars to appear, you never quite know when or where. for sure you ought to look in the darkest parts of the sky, and out of the sides of your field of vision, where you have the most light receptors, but atmospheric conditions have a lot to do with it, so you never quite know.
where will it be?
and you scan the darkening sky, over and over and there's nothing; nothing and more nothing and then suddenly, as if a great switch had been thrown, you see that one first star. you almost don't believe it; you maybe look away and then look back. but there it is!
and while you're double checking, a second star blinks on. how did you not see it before? and now there are three, four, and they're all coming out, clean and bright and you know the new day has come.
i lit the one new candle i'd brought out with me, raised it up and sang lumen Christi, Christ, the light of the world!
and i carried the new flame into my darkened house and lit new candles in every room.
today i have three things to offer you:
a fanfare for orchestra brass for which i am only giving you an audio link even though sheet music does exist for it if you want it, and two new songs.
cliffs at brandon listen
Deo gratias listen preview sheet music
heal me up listen preview sheet music