I have written a couple of times about the Messiah Sing that I attended with friends at the Stanford Memorial Chapel.
Today, I'd like to mention the lowpoint. Tomorrow the highpoint.
Stepping into the chapel gives one the feeling of stepping back in time. Beautiful indeed. Angels everywhere. Patriarchs, apostles, prophets and kings imagined and pictured in iconic style on the walls and ceilings.
The singing - powerful and mostly in unison.
The music - everyone giving it their all.
The problem - I was sitting in the second floor balcony. I looked down to see what I could see and was sorry to see what I could see.
There was a young woman, um, gravity challenged (fat) sitting there playing the cello. Her clothes, blue jeans, were ill-fitting. Okay, they were way too small and she was bulging out the backside.
Butt crack. Huge. Ugly. Painfully in full-sight of everyone behind her and those in the upper balcony.
Still, I am encouraged to know, that the Messiah, at his sing along and otherwise does not mind how we come to Him as long as we come.
Still, it does not hurt to give our best, now does it?
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