It is commonly thought that angels do sing, although in actuality, that particular practice of angels cannot be substantiated. When Jesus tells the parable though of the one lost sheep that was found when the shepherd left the other ninety-nine sheep to go and find that one, He compares the joy of the shepherd with the joy demonstratively expressed in heaven when one sinner turns to God. It is a concept that He so wants His audience to grasp, that He tells two more stories to illustrate it – the excitement of the woman who searched her whole house until she found the one lost coin, and the excitement of the father who ran to welcome home his prodigal son and celebrated his return with music and gifts and feasting. So whether or not the angels actually sing, is a detail that doesn’t detract from the consuming joy that overpowers the senses with its intensity and passion, a joy that is able to evoke both tears and song.

I understand the song of the angels, whether it be a musical utterance, or simply a profound utterance of emotion. Sharing biblical truth with one who is burdened with guilt, tormented by memories, or crushed by tragedy, and watching the Spirit of God bring truth to bear on the reality and rawness of that person’s need, and then watching as God releases the bondage of whatever oppression has wrecked its havoc, brings to the one who shares a joy of unparalleled proportion! The one who has received is set on a path of freedom to pursue the fullness of all that God offers, a journey that may be marked by obstacles and detours, but nonetheless, a journey walked in the presence of God and replete with blessing upon blessing. The giver though is also a recipient, a recipient of a joy that is matched only in heaven. Why? Why does the joy come? What evokes it?

 

I have wept with joy many times when God has so given. I weep because truth has been realized and truth has been accepted – truth that is real and applicable for one I deeply care for; truth that frees; truth that I have known the transforming power of in my own life. I weep because I can shout through the tears, "Thank You!" to an incredible God who allowed the ashes, and then allowed beauty to be brought from the ashes. I weep because I who am nothing – I have been granted the privilege of doing something for the God who loves me. I weep because the God who loves me has been made known – He has been seen and experienced within the perfections of His glory. And I weep because the one I care for has been touched at the depth of her being. There is no greater joy, and whether or not the angels truly sing, I know they too are rejoicing.