I’m on vacation this week. While I didn’t plan to spend it sleeping and watching movies and staying hydrated while I ride out mononucleosis,
I’ve enjoyed the time off to rest, watch movies, and go to my home church last Sunday.
The decision process of where to go so as not to squander my Sunday off was extensive.
Should I go to Cornerstone where I got my ministry start? Or Northside Drive to see Dr.KMass?
Or, maybe I should go to North Atlanta Church of Christ; home.
I did. I sat with my good friend, Tina, heard a wonderful sermon on giving, witnessed a baptism, and got so many hugs from and the chance to catch up with my “church moms” of my early years in that church.
But mostly, I sang. And, while the value of an organ in worship has become increasingly clear to me in my years (haha! Yes, multiple years! Just 2 and a half, but still!) of ministry within the Baptist tradition;
and while now I listen for the piano like behind the music on Sunday morning,
the joy of that unaccompanied worship did wonders for my tired body and wearied soul.
At the close of the service, we sang What A Friend We Have in Jesus. Many voices raised in song swirled around me in unaccompanied bliss.
I knew exactly what to do. Like a well developed reflex, the alto line came soaring out of me like a prayer.
“Precious savior still our refuge… In his arms he’ll take and shield thee.”
And I did find a solace there in the music, the beautiful voices, and wonderful fellowship.
In memories of worshipping with my parents and missionary friends when the campaigners would come to work with the church, focusing on evangelism through song;
in memories of the Diana singing and local signings in little Alabama churches with my grandfather.
In the deep faith that undergirds my ministry, the faith which learned to grow and question and blossom outside of boxes in the pews of this very church and in the homes of its members.
Thanks be to God.