Thank-full: Day 13... doxology

In a room crowded with bodies of all ages, voices raise in acapella song, babies lift newborn cries, old men rumble bass, and young women lilt soprano, while guitar and violin, piano and keyboard, djembe and drum set, quiver in the silence of instruments.  Outside, the sun streams on frozen grass, and though my ears hear nothing but this song inside, I imagine the voices outdoors joining the hymn of praise: the trees, half adorned in beauty, half naked; the lakes and rivers and streams; the birds nesting high, the squirrels scavenging below; the dogs and cats and farm animals near and far; the flowers bending low in cold; the sounds of the city in motion.  We share this moment every week, and somehow, it never fails to fill me with longing.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow

Praise Him all creatures here below

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Praise Him above, ye heavenly host

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost

O praise Him, oh praise Him

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah!

I long to hear more.  When I hear this song of creation, I feel so small.  I fill with awe.  I sing my little part of this tune every day, most days in varying degrees of off-key, and some days I imagine my voice sounds so very nice, and it's hard to tell where I'm at until I hear all the voices together.  Each voice - young, old, in-between - human, animal, creation, we all sing our part in this eternal song.  

I love this doxology, and I'm thankful, in this holiday week, to join my voice with all creation in a song of the simplest, deepest gratitude.   

Praise God from whom all blessings flow...