Basically, tonight started off wacky, then worshipful, then wet. In that order.

To give a little context, I drove to downtown Nashville for the Behold the Lamb of God concert at the Ryman, hosted by Andrew Peterson. It’s a yearly Christmas tradition that never disappoints.

On the way, I parked at the Music City Center because it’s cheap and close. When I stopped to get the ticket for parking, I went to drive into the garage and my car wouldn’t budge. I yelled and screamed at my car and it would not go. It was running, but refused to go. I was about at my wits’ end.

Then I realized that my door wasn’t shut. That was all. I closed the door and drove in. I think in this case my car was smarter than I was. At least in that moment.

The concert was as good or better than any of the previous ones I’ve seen. Jill Phillips singing Labor of Love is alone worth the price of admission. That line about “the baby in her womb He was as the maker of the moon He was the author of the faith That could make the mountains move” still gives me the good chills.

We closed singing the doxology and then I stepped out into pouring rain. By the time I got back to my car, I was soaked, even with my rain jacket. The drive home was mostly uneventful, even if driving in the rain at night is probably my least favorite pastime.

But I made a friend tonight. Her name is Jodi and she drove in from Colorado Springs for the concert, which makes me feel not so bad about driving from Brentwood. She said they were driving back tonight. I don’t envy her that trip in the rain, but I’m praying for safe travels.

I was reminded of someone who also made a journey much further than mine. He came not from Brentwood or Colorado Springs, but from very heaven itself to a tiny town called Bethlehem, all for the love of you and me. All the songs tonight were about that God incarnate, Emmanuel. Once again, that gives me a little more perspective and gratitude.

I hope to do it all again this time next year. Well, most of it, anyway. Maybe not the car thing.