Friday, December 4, 2015
I'm in the living room of my friend's house. I'm surround by friends, many of whom I just met tonight, and everyone is singing Handel's Messiah. Everyone but me. That's because, probably unbeknownst to my friend prior to this evening, I don't sing.
It's not that I don't like singing. I do. I just can't really do it. Literally. I really and truly lack the lung capacity to hold a note, let alone belt out Handel's Messiah. And that folks is why, if you want someone to give a kick butt talk, I'm you're guy. But if you're looking for someone to join the choir, I'm not the wheelchair dude you're looking for.
But, what I lack in operatic skills, I make up for in heart and enthusiasm. And tonight, I'm feeling it.
Engulfed in the surround sound of this beautiful piece, my mind is drawn to its composer. Talented, yes, but also a brother of sorts. You see, like me, Handel was disabled.
Following a stroke, he could no longer play the keyboard and could no longer conduct. Physically, he was broken, he could give no more music to the world.
And then it happened.
He found the words. Those glorious words written by Jennens. And they called to him. Oh, how they called to him!
And he responded.
Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Has there ever been a more famous or powerfully composed piece of music?
I'm listening to it now and my heart is full.
"For He shall reign forever and ever!" "King of kings!"
And so this man, Handel, who, though all stood around him to declare his masterful chorus, was never able to join in their physical exuberance, gave us all this incredible gift.
I can only imagine that his joy, like my joy, in being surrounded by heavenly voices declaring heavenly praises in heavenly song, was as complete as mine is in this very moment.
What a blessing it is to exceed expectation, to defy the odds and sing praises in the process.
Shoot, I may stay here all night.