As I’m writing through the Thanksgiving Service at St. Paul’s, I realize that this is probably excruciatingly boring and you’re ready to get on with the good stuff. I apologize and thank you for your indulgence. I wrote for nearly two hours on Thanksgiving night because I didn’t want to forget the experience. I did it for me. I’m reliving it here. You have permission to skip ahead.
The service concluded with the hymn “Now Thank We all our God” and the final blessing by the Dean. I summarized it in my journal as: May God pour his blessing upon you that you may use his gifts to his glory and the welfare of all peoples.
And then it was over. Done. The event we’d been working towards for months and talking about for nearly a year was finished.
I had a few minutes to talk with a friend afterwards. I asked her about her experience of the service. Was she nervous? Was it amazing? She explained that right before we sang, she had a panicky moment when she thought she might get thrown out of the cathedral. Her thought: when they invited the choir to sing, they might not have meant her.
My feelings were similar: honored and undeserving. It didn’t feel like I did anything special to DESERVE this opportunity. It was a gift handed to me that I just accepted and will continue to be thankful for and make the most of. Blogging the trip is just part of that. It’s my way of bringing you all along and sharing the honor with you.