Lindsay's Alleluia

From Em:

So this was an unexpected cry session.

A guy in our stake asked for my help in designing a Stake Easter program as an interfaith musical presentation where we invite choirs of other faiths to join with us. I suggested some of my very favorite "non LDS" choral music that I thought would be great to use, including Ralph Manuel's Alleluia. He sent back his draft of the program for editing--and chose to use this Alleluia as the first song. He had a link to his youtube clip as part of his outline so I decided to go watch it. And the next minute I was holding my head in my hands trying to breathe.

Here it is:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CVQuCDgx-RQ

Well, actually Al and Zach, this might not really have significance for you. Lindsay loved this "Alleluia" by Ralph Manuel that she sang in concert choir. The concert choir sang it at her funeral. (I still can't believe you guys weren't there!)

I was there though, and as I listened to this, I was there again. And for some reason I didn't cry at the funeral. But I bawled like a baby tonight. Head in my hands, shaking, trying to breathe... This song took me back. Mom was in a halo with bruises all over her face and leg, Lindsay's friends were all around, crying, and hugging, we were devastated yet floating on an almost magic cloud of prayers and faith and love, and there were pictures of her displayed everywhere....but she was gone. Gone. They closed the lid. They're going to put it in the ground. And yet, in the music, then and now, she was there somehow. The song is radiant and vibrant, like her. It resonated with her and she loved to sing it. And, Alleluia--Praise the Lord--He was resurrected, so we will get to be with her again. The juxtapositioning of this being Lindsay's funeral song with it being the kick off an Easter program is breathtaking to me, in a painful and yet also triumphant way.

Big sigh.

Happy early National I Love You Day.
I love you.

Love Em


From Zach:

It's a beautiful song. The strains are familiar enough, it brings back memories of an Elder sitting in a floral print chair in the Philippines watching a VHS video of a funeral that seemed too numb to be related to him. Almost like reading a short story where you feel that someone else felt something poignant, powerful and life changing, but it isn't quite yours.

But tonight interestingly enough, I was on a walk exploring near my hotel here in Ottawa, Ontario, Canada when I happened upon Canada's Parliament. Literally stumbled upon it having no idea it was there. It looks just like Hogwarts with it's majestic architecture. And my my pocket buzzed with an email from Em right as I was walking past a fountain in the center square.

Em said, "The juxtapositioning of that being Lindsay's funeral song and kickoff to an Easter program is breathtaking to me, in a painful and yet also triumphant way," and as I read those words, I was standing right next to this nation and country's Centennial Flame--a fountain of everflowing water capped by an eternal flame endlessly lapping up out of the water itself--radiant, full of life and vibrant even in the darkness of the cold, October wind.

Refusing to drown, the flame seems to be floating on an almost magic cloud just like Em was describing. It was pretty neat to have such a powerful symbol in front of me while reading Em's story. And since "the Hebrew word Halleluya as an expression of praise to God was preserved, untranslated, by the early Christians as a superlative expression of thanksgiving, joy, and triumph," an Alleluia is the perfect soundtrack to the light of the world overcoming our seas of sorrow, pain and devastation.

I love you guys so much, thanks for sharing that and being with me on my trip here and always wherever. "Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning." (Psalms 30:5)

See you on that morning. We may be singing Alleluia...

Kuya