church, on a sunday

We went to church on a Sunday.
We drove all day to get there and part of the one before. It was afternoon when we got their evening when we left. But the lights turned on while we sat there. The warm glow of Christmas that had already begun, started burning brighter.

It wasn’t really a church, or truly, it was.
An old church with a new name and the same mission. The Hope that strings back through generations and hold us all together. Hope that invites us and the heartbreak of being human.

And music.

Amy Grant and Vince Gill took the stage together at the Ryman- a couple, with a couple of powerhouse careers- and they shared their time, talents, and a Christmas concert with so many of us. A packed house, plus a few more shows.

I’ve loved her for decades stretching back to the 80’s and love her Christmas stuff best. I even walked down the aisle to a song from one of her albums- an instrumental, but still. The love and tradition run deep. Turns out my husband loved Vince from about that long ago too, as he drove around the south during his football coaching career.

Vince and Amy got married the year before we met each other and here we all were together, 23 years later.

Tennessee Christmas has always been one of my very favorites and here we were all together as our little family of four. We sang it on the road, and our son declared it his favorite (only later to be dethroned by Jingle Bells, but still.) Now we sat on church pews and heard it live and sang along softly, a memory, a wish in the making.

We tried two other times to get here, and it didn’t happen. Yet how here we all were, old enough to enjoy it, young enough to care and still a Family. I don’t know if it was the timing or the wait or forgetting it was even possible. Maybe it was all of those things. But even so. It was magical.

I cried a few rivers of tears at some of the songs, especially Amy’s.
Vince waxed long and meaningful about his dad, who had passed on. His life and parenting style was a bit harsh but his memory played several strings on Vince’s heart, you could see. He honored him on his birthday, that very day we sat there together.
Amy shared what seemed like a real gratitude for us all coming together, and you could feel the force of the stories we each carried.

The thing I loved most of all I think, besides remembering my times spent listening to the songs and past Christmases, was watching my kids here in the present – on the edge of their seats, elbows propped up on the pew in front of them. Faces reflecting the glow of lights on the stage. Eyes filled with wonder. Lips whispering along to the songs they knew. One’s love waxes super long for music, the other loves it too, though he fell asleep on my lap.
I can only hope they carry these memories forward with them too. The warm music, shared experiences. The feelings, of being here, together with our family.

I hope that the thoughts keep them warm some night when the wind blows cold and the usual feelings fade. I hope these memories come to warm them, like all the best memories do.

I know that these memories will keep me warm long after they’re grown, maybe possibly snuggling their own children who are sleeping on their laps.
Someday, somehow.

I hope it’s somewhere really good. In a church. In a house. In a warm theater.
Wherever they are, in their hearts, hopefully, home. So sacred there, it almost feels like a church. And surely, somehow, it is.

In so many wonders wonderful ways it is. Where God is there with us too. That’s the real “magic” of living, of loving.

There’s something about live music and this one happened to hit so many high notes for us, as a family, shared and separate, old and now new, and Christmas too. By the end we were all standing and singing, silent night. And “holy night” voices raised, and a few arms. Holy night it was, indeed.

We stepped out into the cool night air in the middle of downtown Nashville. The lights had indeed, all come on. As we walked away from the beautiful stained glass windows of the church, I did, know, that the night was special. That I’ll be holding it closely too.

What memories are you holding, close, or making this year too? I’d really love to hear yours too🫶🏻❤️🙏🏻🎄