Some of my happiest childhood memories involve music. In elementary school, I dressed as a poinsettia in a Christmas pageant, singing in a costume my mother fashioned out of dyed-green tights and a red turtleneck. I sang joyously during Sunday School and VBS. Tunes such as Grey Squirrel and Jesus Loves the Little Children filled my repertoire. That early exposure to singing led to years of choirs in junior high and high school and college, as well as adult choirs, including St. Paul's Chorale.
I suppose my love of music was inevitable growing up with a family equally enthusiastic about singing. My brother and sister have beautiful voices. My mom had a wonderful voice, now silenced by late-stage Alzheimer's. My dad has a deep appreciation for music, but he would be the first to admit he could not "carry a tune even if it had a handle on it."
With that love of singing, I get especially excited about Christmas music. There's newness when I hear or sing the Christmas classics for the first time each season.
However, as the season moves along, there are times when I don't appreciate these songs as I should, when the songs become background noise (on the radio in the car as I drive to an appointment and in a store as I jockey for position in a check-out lane). I fail to hear the words of love, joy, anticipation, excitement, peace, and hope.
Listen in your mind to, or sing aloud, this vivid picture:
"O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie. Above the deep and dreamless sleep, the silent stars go by; yet in the dark streets shin-eth, the everlasting light. The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight."
This season, I hope to slow down and open my eyes and ears to the beauty of Christmas. I hope to get captivated in the words of songs that paint pictures of that first Christmas and the Christ child. I hope to sing of God's love forever.
Pam Crowe,
married to John, loves to sing.
