"There is lovely."

I am still getting over finishing the Welsh story "How Green Was My Valley." I cried on the bus to NYC two weekends ago reading this:

Ivor raised his finger, and from the top of the hill down to bottom men and women hummed softly to have the proper key, with sopranos going up to find the octave, and altos climbing, and tenors making silver and contraltos and baritones resting in comfort and basso down on the octave below, and the sound they all made was a lifetime of loveliness, so solid, so warm, so deep, and yet so delicate. It will be no surprise to me if the flowers of the gardens of heaven are made from such sound. And O, to smell a smell as good to the nose as that sound sounds to the ear.

But even heaven could not be so beautiful, or we would all be drunk with beauty day and night, and no work done anywhere, and nobody to blame.

Drunk with beauty. There is lovely.

Above is the delightful little Hamilton Women's Ensemble I've been a part of this year. Our Christmas concert, accompanied by strings and flute, was almost as enjoyable as the 1 1/2 hours each Monday we gather to rehearse. :) I don't know why, but I just love singing, and I'm so glad it's something the Lord created us to do.

"Sing praises to God, sing praises! Sing praises to the King, sing praises!" (Ps. 47:6)

"Let the word of Christ richly dwell within you, with all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another with psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing with thankfulness in your hearts to God." (Col.3:16)