Tag: All Shall Be Well

I find the “Alleluia “ in me to be a quiet one today. So unlike other Easters in my memory. So different. So quiet. There are no loud and boisterous proclamations of  “He Is Risen!” I am singing no anthems that declare the Resurrection with great ardor and joy. There is no larger than life cross draped in white, no Easter lilies, no Easter Chrismon tree that often adorns my house on Easter.

On the secular side, there is not a bunny in sight at my house and no basket of brightly colored Easter Eggs. There is no Easter bread that is our tradition. No ham, no lamb, no standing rib roast with all the trimmings.

There is an Easter wreath on my door, adorned with a white cross and Easter lilies, a very understated design. The wreath is subdued, not colorful. Easter hymns are playing, though, courtesy of Pandora, but I chose a selection of quiet, reflective, traditional hymns. Somehow “Were You There?”, The Old, Rugged Cross” and “Fairest Lord Jesus” seem right this year.

My “Alleluia” today is quiet, almost a whisper. It arises from somewhere in me that cannot seem to  create a louder word of praise, cannot count on my diaphragm to produce a brighter “Alleluia” in joyous song. This kind of Easter feels sad to me, although somehow it seems okay, fitting even, on this Easter. Family is far away. Family that is near might as well be a million miles away, because Covid and my weak immune system still holds me captive in my house.

So like the soft “Alleluia” in the image, I am soft and quiet on this Day of Christ’s Resurrection. I have lost friends in the past year, friends who died too soon. I have witnessed loneliness, sorrow, grieving and morning. I have mourned myself. I have feared the rejection of my kidney. I have worried about my health. I have missed my church and my friends. I have longed desperately to see my son and my grandchildren. When all is said and done and when reality is all one has to hold on to, the Gospel Good News remains! We are Resurrection People! Because Jesus lives, I really can face tomorrow, and the next tomorrow, and all the tomorrows that come after that.

Today, I am where I am, in this quiet place. But just to remind me of the Resurrection Good News, my Pandora selection of quiet hymns is now playing “The Hallelujah Chorus” — right now as I write. I was not ready for it. I have sung it hundreds of times, but I cannot sing it now. I cannot lift up my voice and project it into a place of worship. But here is the Gospel Easter truth they are singing: “He shall reign forever, forever and ever, King of kings and Lord of lords. Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hal  le  lu  jah!”

Today I can sing only a whisper of praise — a quiet “Alleluia” — only a weak breath. But the Resurrection Good News is that my whispered praise is heard throughout the vast expanse of heaven. Perhaps the heavenly host is singing “Alleluia” with me. I’m not too sure that is happening, but I do know this: God accepts my breathless whisper. It is heard clearly by God the Father, God the Mother, God the Son and by the Spirit that holds the breath of us all. Amen!

“A Quiet Alleluia” by B. J. Meyer

Although the song is performed on the piano,
it does have lyrics:

And I pray;
I knew then there were reasons
for everything I had to endure
‘Cause they opened the door
To my mind.

I used to think that I was weak,
Feelin’ the pressure of fighting the heartaches;
Was wounded but I could not speak.

When I exhale, it’s a quiet allelujah
When I exhale, it’s a quiet allelujah