Gary and I went to a preview of Les Miserables last night at the invitation of Grace Hill Media.

It was spectacular. An epic movie musical. Everything I wanted it to be and so much more.

We could understand every word of the brilliant lyrics, and the music rarely seemed to pause the action, an especially important detail for my husband, who generally dislikes musicals. The movie version provided perspectives the play could never give us. And the actors proved to be excellent singers. I knew Amanda Seyfried (Mamma Mia!) could belt it. But Russell Crowe, Hugh Jackman, and Anne Hathaway? Helena Bonham Carter and Sacha Baron Cohen (Borat)? Indeed.

Les Mis is not a "safe for the whole family" show—part of what makes it so good. No Pollyanna-ing the plot to make it palateable. Nothing cheesy. The evil is truly evil. The poverty and violence and immorality are not pretty. But into this world of true darkness comes great grace. And the end brings a glimpse of heaven. Literally.

Especially in light of the events in Connecticut, the redeeming power of grace comes through, and a demonstration of why we must choose to love, not hate, in the face of great injustice.

Gary didn't go through any tissues. But the guy on the other side of me needed some. I suggest at least having one in your pocket. And if you don't have little kiddos, go the day it opens: Christmas. It will remind you why we celebrate.