Singing.

Some days I find myself asking the question, "Why?". Sunday, I sat in the front pew of our church with the bread and juice, my heart silently pleading... why? Sunday service tends to touch a tender place in my heart regarding grief. The place where I come to know and understand Jesus, and be with a community I love.

To this day, I find it hard to sing the latter part of the Doxology. The words get caught in my throat, and tears quickly form in my eyes. I become a hot mess. I think of my friend, Evelyn, who lost her little sister, Christiana, a few years ago. I remember sitting with her at a conference years ago, as she realized that Christiana was in heaven declaring God's holiness in heaven. I didn't understand the deep significance of it at the time.

I sing the Doxology with tears streaming down my face, my voice cracking pretty badly... yet I choose to work through the awkward and painful to declare God's goodness that Rachelle is singing and worshipping Jesus.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow

Praise Him all creatures here below

Praise Him above ye Heavenly host

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Amen.