Garment of Praise: Exchanging pain for joy

“To console those who mourn in Zion,

To give them beauty for ashes,

The oil of joy for mourning,

The garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness;

That they may be called trees of righteousness,

The planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.”

—Isaiah 61:3

I was barely a teenager when I got the opportunity to join the church choir. The director, Miss Moreland, was my neighbor. She drove my two sisters and me to and from choir practice each week leading up to Christmas. We were preparing to sing for midnight mass. I had never even stayed up late enough to attend midnight mass, let alone sing for it. What a privilege!

Our practices were held in the choir loft. I remember climbing those creaky stairs for the first time. I found myself rising higher and higher until the wooden rafters surrounded me, as the loft was situated in the ridge of the roof, its sloping walls on either side. I remember finding a seat on a bench next to my school friend Rocky and being in awe as I peered over the rail at the rows of pews below, which seemed so small from my new vantage point.

Miss Moreland introduced each song and gave instruction to each section. When it was time for us to sing “Angels We Have Heard on High,” she gave the correct pronunciation for the Latin phrase, “Gloria in excelsis Deo,” translated “Glory to God in the highest.”

Rocky leaned over and whispered to me, “Gloria in eggshell sis Deo.”

I laughed. It was a good way to remember the pronunciation.

Each time we came to that line in the song, Rocky and I grinned at each other and sang out, “Gloria in eggshell sis Deo.” What fun we had!

My excitement grew as the days grew closer to Christmas. My mother was sewing for me and my sisters floor-length skirts for us to wear to midnight mass. Mine was a bright red. I could hardly wait to wear it.

I can still remember the butterflies in my stomach when Christmas Eve finally arrived. I slipped on my new praise garment, its crimson folds enveloping me, falling softly at my feet.

I remember my heart pounding with each creak on the stairway to the loft and how I carefully lifted the hem of my garment, so as not to step on it. Then midnight struck and Miss Moreland played the first note. And somehow I felt higher than I actually was, floating even, maybe like an angel of the heavenly host, praising God and singing, “Glory to God in the highest.”

The warmth and joy of that moment is hard to replicate.

Life has a way of doing that. Painful circumstances step on our joy. Divorce, financial struggles, loss of loved ones, health concerns—all can wreak havoc on our lives and leave us in the wake, wondering how we’re going to make it.

Maybe you’re in a situation right now, your sorrow so great that you don’t even want to hear Christmas carols, let alone sing them. Or you’re so overwhelmed with the pressures of life that you’re considering ending it all. Let me encourage you with the words of the angel, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord” (Luke 2:10-11).

Jesus is our hope for desperate times. No matter the circumstance, He is there. He will reach down, pick us up from the ash heap, enfold us in His loving arms, and wipe away our tears. He will carry us through the pain. Step by step, He will lift us higher till our joy is restored. He will lift off our spirit of heaviness and exchange it for a garment of praise.

Dear Jesus, Whatever I am going through, no matter how hopeless the situation may seem, I know You are right there with me. You will never leave me nor forsake me. Your joy is my strength. For that, I lift up my voice and sing, “Glory to God in the highest!”  

With my garment of praise at Our Lady of the Wayside Church