Hallelujah Story

I've told this story before, but I wrote this piece for my creative writing class and thought I'd share it here.

Praise the Lord.

Praise the Lord from the heavens;

    praise him in the heights above.

² Praise him, all his angels;

    praise him, all his heavenly hosts.

³ Praise him, sun and moon;

    praise him, all you shining stars.

⁴ Praise him, you highest heavens

    and you waters above the skies.

Over the past week my daily readings had brought me to these words and others in the last few chapters of Psalms that all call for praise. They seemed to jump off the page at me. How could they not!  I sat every day in my cabin on the shore of a pristine lake in a remote part of northwest Ontario and watched the most amazing things: an eagle swooping to the surface of the water to catch a fish, a beaver slapping its tail to warn others, and loons floating along, diving and surfacing from time to time.  The stillness and beauty of the lake was working on me.

As I returned to the words of the Psalmist, the song, “Shout to the Lord” came to mind. 

“When have I ever shouted to the Lord?’ I thought, and immediately I knew what I had to do. 

It was early in the morning, the dawn of a bright and sunny day.  Fog lay in a thin layer on the surface of the water.  The air felt cool and crisp as I walked out the dock and climbed the ladder to the top of the high dive.  It was so still that I felt very nervous about breaking the silence with my shout. But I was determined.  I raised both my arms to the heavens, lifted my face to the sky and yelled, “Hallelujah!”  The echo reverberated from the island in the middle of the lake and returned to my ears.

Later I decided to share this story with my friend in the next cabin.  She was surprised and said, “You know, I told John I heard someone yelling outside this morning.  I looked out and saw you on the high dive.  But I didn’t think it could possibly be you shouting.”

And just like that, my identity changed.  I went from being someone who wouldn’t even be suspected of having shouted to the Lord, to being famous for this in our little camp community.

Over the past few years I’ve shared this story many times. Often I am leading a group in an outdoor chapel at one of the awe-inspiring settings around the camp. We might be at Bear Track, on a high peak looking out over the lake below and watching the pinks and reds of the sunset play against the sky.  We sometimes travel down a short trail to Sunset Point where we climb on large rocks that jut out into the lake and give us an amazing perspective.  But wherever we are, we lift our hands together and raise our voices in unison.

“Hallelujah!  Praise the Lord!”