Page 72 of Waiting for Gilbert

“‘Who created the heavens and stretched them out?’” I close my eyes and surrender my irritation, my unjustified anger, my worldly annoyance. My shoulders roll back and I join the song.

“‘Who spread the earth from coast to coast?’” My God is so much more than I can comprehend. Not a being that has to count or measure. Those vast beaches were madebyhim andforhim andthroughhim. He doesn’t count them because heknows.

“‘Who gives breath to his people?’” A smile lifts my face. All creation praises our King.

Another musician with a striped green polo joins the piano with his guitar and this adds to the yearning tension in my soul as we begin the chorus. “‘Who gives life to those who walk on it?’”Oh, God, I’m so, so unworthy, and yet I’m here worshiping. There is nowhere else I want to be. Standing in Your presence I am washed clean and made holy. “‘Behold, the Creator! Behold the Lord. Sing His praise from the ends of the earth.’”

Drums come alongside the other instruments and they encourage this rising fullness in my heart as we start the second verse. “‘Sing to the Lord a new song. Let the wilderness and cities raise their voices’”

Diana’s alto harmony meshes beautifully with my soprano, and Lauren’s young voice is on my other side. I take in the length of the pew where Landon and the twins sing too. The twins stomp out of rhythm and even though they are probably in competition to see who can stomp the fastest on the commercial grade carpet, they’re here, and they’re listening and learning. On the far end next to Landon, Mark stands with eyes closed, palms open. Lisa can’t decide if she wants to face forward or backward as Nathan wrangles her on the other side of Diana. I can worship my God anywhere, but lifting my voice with my family is one of my greatest joys. Moving here was the right decision.

“‘Let them give glory to the Lord.’” I can be such a fool. Such an impulsive, quick-acting fool. How many times has God reached down and saved me?

I lift on my toes. Compelled tomove, I bounce as the music swells leading into the chorus again. Then I close my eyes and the words of the verse turn to pictures in my mind. “‘The Lord will march out like a champion, like a warrior He will stir up His zeal. God forever. Jesus, Savior, risen to reign.’”

An ache in my throat blocks my words. Warmth washes over my arms, neck, and legs. I’m crying because my God isgood. So,so, good. I’m crying because I’m overflowing with emotion that has to get out. There’s angst and sorrow at what I’ve done and what Jesus did. There’s overwhelming adoration too. The joy in my soul bubbles up and over and escapes as tears. It’s lovely to be here, surrounded by the Lord’s people.

“‘He will turn darkness into light.’”

I picture God in this place. I imagine a throne at the head of our congregation. God the Father sitsright therebefore us. Anyone walking in off the street might turn around and walk back out again because they don’t see Him. They don’t know Him. But if they would stay for a few minutes and hear this message. Behold! Look. At. Him. Don’t look at us and our faults and our failed attempts at being good on our own, but look at Him. We only want to point you to Him.

“‘Let them give glory to the Lord.’”

His Spirit hovers around us and through us and in us. Jesus the Son… where is He? At first, I imagine Jesus on a throne too, but He won’t stay there. He’s standing in the pew next to me. He’s walking around, shaking hands with His friends, and doing the bro shake with the hug and the slap on the back. He’s embracing the elderly, kneeling before those that are too weak to stand, and high-fiving the preschoolers because He knows us intimately. We’re His family. His brothers and sisters.

He comes and stands beside me and joins in our song. Jesus the Lamb and the Lion and the Heir sings to the Father.

I’m releasing these precious and wonderful tears of joy because He smiles at me, and I smile back because we’re friends. Good,goodfriends. Good enough friends that He waves to his Dad and says, “She’s with me,” and it’s my undoing. I don’t even try to sing anymore as I swipe at the little rivers of salt water on my cheeks.

“‘Let them give glory to the Lord.’”

Diana holds a flannel burp cloth covered with blue sail boats in front of my face, and I laugh as I take it to dry my eyes and blow my nose. She tilts her head and mouths, “I love you” and fresh tears join the party.

For once I don’t resist my strong feelings. I sob into the cloth and welcome every last drop of love until I’m full to bursting. There’s no room for doubt when you’re filled up with the truth. With Diana’s arm around me, I lean into her while Jack’s squishy fist bonks against my face.

“I love you too, big sister.”

30

CORDELIA

MONDAY, DECEMBER 25

MATT WERTZ—SNOW GLOBE

I’m slaving over a tray of cookies that I’m decorating on the counter before I join the rest of the crew for lunch when a knock at the cottage door interrupts. I glance at the clock on the microwave. It’s not yet nine in the morning.

The knock comes again, and I drop the piping bag of blue icing. “Coming!”

I twist the lock and open the door to Gilbert grinning his face off, wearing his red-checkered flannel and swinging a metallic green gift bag.

“Hi!” I jump to him and he stumbles onto the snowy path. “You’re back!” My pointed toes barely touch the ground while hanging from his neck. Gilbert’s cheek is cold against mine when his arms come around me.

He shuffles us into the house, kicks the door shut and leans against it.

Embarrassed, I slide to the floor and tug at my green, Anne Shirley hoodie, gray leggings, and red fuzzy socks with white snowflakes. This might be the same outfit I was wearing when we met.

“You’ve got a little—Here.” He pulls his flannel over his wrist and wipes the side of my face. A streak of blue stains his sleeve. “I need your advice on something. Do you have a minute?”

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