I’m a relational person. Despite my introverted tendencies, I love people, in a way that overwhelms my heart to the point of overflowing giddiness. I love the chaos of a house full of family and music and the times where for one moment, we are all on the same page; that instance that I can take a step back and look at the people around me.
And I breathe it in. That brief heartbeat where our lives are so deeply and utterly connected because we have chosen to see our commonalities as opposed to the screaming differences.
I was at a concert recently, sitting amongst an uncounted number of people, my eyes closed as the band played and the music drifted me off into a different place, a different scene. And I could hear it; each instrument so clearly, each playing their part, their designated role and sound and tempo and tune, harmoniously and intricately working together for the good of the song as a whole.
I could hear each instrument waiting patiently for their turn to shine, their beauty to arise from the crowd and a piece of their heart to be shown. Each one had a moment, however brief, however so small, they each had a role to play and they played it with all they had; each note adding something to the bigger picture.
Without them, it wouldn’t be the same song.
But it’s within that song, when each instrument and each person is playing in perfect unity that I open my eyes and breathe the sound in. The sound of a concert hall full of voices singing out of the mouths of complete strangers with their hearts giving life to the lungs within them.
The sound of oneness.
That’s the moment that takes my breath away, the moment that I am completely engulfed with a feeling of love and joy and hope that brings tears to my eyes and a smile to my soul.
That’s Heaven for me; the body of Christ, a body of complete strangers unified for one sweet moment of time. A moment we all shared together, each person offering a bit of themselves to fulfill the bigger picture, the grander sound.