If you want to stir a little hope in your soul this spring,  attend a middle school concert. It probably helps if one of the handsome tenors is your grandson, but honestly, I think you’ll be carried away by the promise of it all even if you don’t know anyone.

When those children started singing, “I believe in the sun even when it is not shining,” I believed. I forgot all about the twenty-four hour news cycle that screams constantly “the sky is falling!” I forgot about the bills stacked on my office desk and even about the laundry piled up at home. I just heard the music and saw those eager faces. And, I believed.

In the sun.

In the future.

In the God who holds it all.

At some point in the evening, I ended up sitting all alone when Serenity had to go fetch her third-born from ball practice and our tenor had to slip down a row to sit with friends. Serenity sent a text apologizing for leaving me in agony and offering to meet me at an exit door if  wanted to run.

But I was enthralled. With the eager trumpeter who had memorized the music and was watching the crowd reaction instead of the conductor. With the guest conductor who was somebody’s little boy experiencing his debut with a baton after years of study. With the whole pageant of people watching set to music.

A school concert might not be your first choice for a night out. But, I’m telling you it can be magical. I sometimes get a little discouraged about the state of affairs in this world.  But last week a group of junior high boys in neck ties, dress shoes, and braces reminded me that our future is in good hands. Both God’s and theirs.

They reminded me of a simple fact: I’m a believer, too.