And the church choir sang "Hallelujah"

First off, let's make note that it yes indeed IS the much needed, much beloved SPRING BREAK. So far, I've spent it biking, eating, running, reading, sleeping (mmmmhhhm!), not being able to sleep- ing, crafting, and a whole bunch of other -ing words. And it's only a Monday! Sometimes, I just close my eyes and imagine the upcoming FREE days I have to do absolutely anything I want. Okay this is sounding pathetic now.
On sunday I was sitting in the pews of Monica Park Church decked out in my shmancy girl scout attire, and repeating along with the rest of the congregation the Lord's Prayer, (finallyyyy have it memorized). It was girl scout sunday- the day where me and the rest of my troop,  the rest of my troop and I go to the sunday service of the church we have our meetings at and update and educate all the church go-ers on the fabulous and adventurous (and rebellious) things we do, except we don't mention the rebellious part. Live by the Girl Scout Law! We've been doing it for years and years and years now (I've been a girl scout since first grade). Within the passing of those many years the church's population has decreased, and decreased, and decreased. Maybe it's because most of them are old. They pass. Maybe because life's gotten busy. Too busy. Not the right kind of busy. Maybe, that's just the way things happen- churches die. But I noticed as I'm singing along to Hymn No. 145, that the choir that once consisted of rows of men and woman wrapped in robes, sitting in chairs, holding black binders, has been worn down to two tenors, one male, one female, and about five sopranos. They're in jeans. They're huddled around a piano. Some in wheelchairs, others swaying to the rhythm. They look wilted and defeated.
But they sing. They sing for the glory of God and not for the glory of their own. They close their eyes. They put their binders down. They might of missed a few notes, but I would have never known because my heart hurt bad. I wanted to go sing with them. They were the sirens in greek mythology, and I was ready to jump my boat. Really though, I just wanted to be with them. Another number. Show that I care. Be a sprout on a dying tree.
They closed their hymns, and I kept sailing.