Get up before the sun, shower, swallow medicine, heave my backpack over my shoulders and set out into the chill morning to go to prayer.
There were only four girls today. Almost all of us are sick in some form or fashion. Some more sick than others, but all of us struggling.
Our prayers of late have seemed heavy. What with revival last week and sickness rampant for almost a month, our prayer has been serious and solemn (as it should be).
We bowed our heads to the altar this morning, lifting our hands and hearts to God before our day started.
I heard some movement on the stage, but ignored it. It's not like the chapel is off-limits when we're praying in there.
But suddenly the loudest, most high-pitched noise sounded from the organ. It took all my willpower not to shoot up and see what was going on. I dutifully kept my head bowed, though, and tried to refocus my thoughts. Suddenly a plethora of scales exploded into the chapel. They didn't stop for the next fifteen minutes.
Someone was tuning the organ. During our morning prayer.
A smile played at the corners of my lips; I tried not to laugh. My shoulders were shaking, and finally I burst out laughing. I looked at the other girls, and they were laughing as well.
We stood and went to breakfast, finally remembering that there was supposed to be an organ concert today.
And I was reminded that God has a sense of humor.
In the midst of our deep, heavy prayer, God gave us something to laugh about. It was as if he was saying, "I hear you. I see you. I know your heart, and how it longs to follow Me. Now laugh. Be happy. Have joy!"
No, it was not my deepest, most emotional prayer ever, but it is one that I'll remember for quite a while.
The pipe organ prayer.