Sing to the Lord!

Glory be! We finally made it to church! Somehow on Sunday the stars were aligned in such a way that Poppa was clean, dressed, and ready in time for the 3:00 p.m. community church service. We picked up Momma from the nursing center and formed our parade of wheelchair and walker through the building and up the elevator to the community hall where a local Baptist church was presenting the music and message.

We actually arrived early enough to hear the choir practice their songs. My father eagerly held a hymnal and awaited the announcement of page numbers so that he could sing along. As I listened to the choir, I could hear Poppa humming along in perfect harmony!

Now, my cousin and I had just the day before talked about how much we enjoy singing and how we wish we’d been blessed with an ear for harmony. We each struggle to hear, learn, and sing the second soprano or alto parts. And here was my 84-year-old father doing what for him comes naturally. Must have inherited it from his mother who could hear a tune and immediately play it on the piano.

Though Dad was prepared to accompany the choir, I explained that they would sing some songs by themselves and then we would be given a page number from the hymnal. Finally, it was our turn – page 13 – “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing.” Everyone stood up and opened their hymnals. Mom and Dad struggled to stand, the hymnals dangerously impeding their ability to do so safely. I quickly took hymnals from both of them, pulled them to standing, found their page numbers, handed the hymnals back, and by that time, the hymn was almost over.

Darn! Why didn’t I think to tell them to just stay seated? Oh well, I thought, we’ll be better prepared for the next hymn. The pastor was easy to listen to and gave a good, brief message, then a prayer. Now, I thought, another song… But no, the music director had left early and I guess the pastor felt inadequate to lead a bunch of octogenarians in song (Doesn’t he know the Holy Spirit would have helped him?), so he blessed us and sent us home.

Even Mom said, “I was hoping for more music.” And I wished I could have heard more joyful harmony from Dad.

Sue