It Was The Day the Angels Sang

That particular Sunday in 2015 was different. The morning worship service was reserved for praise only. The songs, scripture, and spoken word were all focused on speaking praise to God. The congregation was a joyful assembly. They liked to rise to their feet when the song lyrics spoke of God, his majesty, and who he is. This Sunday was no different.

The singing was empowered. Happiness streamed across the congregation like a banner being unfurled. Joy and more joy. Life filled every heart. Some were almost dancing. God’s name was being lifted up in worship and heartfelt praise. Song after song was jubilantly sung by young and old, releasing ‘something beautiful, something good’ in the name of  ‘Jesus, there’s just something about that name.’

Then she heard them. Musical voices were sounding extra beautiful, their melody and tone especially vibrant. Such lovely singing, more beautiful than she’d ever heard in the church before. Their voices filled the room. Her heart warmed and thrilled. Goosebumps. God was close as if he were there in their very presence.

It was a special service, everyone knew it. Praise filled and remained. The interim pastor had planned and led the service. He knew it was a good fit because of who they were. He loved the joy in the little country assembly. The tenor of the service was genuine and lively. Amazing, really. You don’t find that often in a church.

I always loved the services too. The spontaneity yet reverence combined in freedom. Like others, there were times I could not stay in my seat. Praise filled my heart and overflowed from me into the room. Sometimes the whole congregation soared to its feet as one body in worship of the King of kings. It was unique, precious, genuine.

After the praise service concluded, my friend, a new believer, mentioned the glorious singing to another woman.. Had she noticed it? “I did,” She said, “Those voices were the angels singing.” No wonder it sounded so marvelous. Understanding came in, and she knew in her heart it was true. What she had heard were angels joining with the congregation in singing praises to God. It was a moment to cherish.

I’m wowed that an angel choir visited my church. I’m glad they were there. Not everyone heard them, but those who did were blessed by their joyful singing.

I’m wowed that Mary, Joseph, shepherds, and Zacharias had angel visitations and were given messages concerning the Savior throughout that first Christmas story. Angels are a part of Christmas. You can’t tell the story without them.

When my grandad was nearing the end of his life and dying from cancer, in the middle of the night an angel entered his room and stood at the foot of his bed. The angel remained for awhile in silence, solemnity, and peace. Grandad was greatly comforted by this, and his faith renewed and regenerated. He was more at peace after that and more interested in spiritual things. He’d been disenchanted by a minister’s wrong behavior, but he let that go and his heart healed. It was an answer to my grandmother’s prayers.

God’s angels are his messengers. We never know when we might meet one. They can look like us and talk like us if they’re working undercover. God’s word says we have met angels unawares. Thank you God, for your supernatural beings, the angels.

“Glory to God in the highest, and on earth, peace and good will to men,” sang the angels to  the shepherds. Certainly, that is what God gave us through his son, the Lord Jesus Christ.

To God be the Glory.

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