"Sunday, I Realized"

Sunday, I realized that

the old hymns are more important

than some think.

I understood this

by looking at others as they sang

and by opening my own ears 

and heart and memories

as I joined them in the

recessional hymn.

I looked to my left and saw

a little girl across the aisle,

head bobbing and eyes twinkling

as she looked adoringly at her mother

and sang without 

the need of a hymnal,

“Oh victory in Jesus, 

my Saviour forever …”

She had heard the hymn before;

she had sung the refrain at other times,

perhaps in other churches,

no doubt with family.

Her face had

"My Saviour forever"

written all over it.

As the old hymn was sung

by the congregation,

I found myself opening my ears

and listening to my mother,

standing beside of me …

singing beside of me.

Her voice isn’t perfect

(well, neither is mine) 

but she brought sweet music 

to my ears. 

In a way, it was celebratory 

for she had been absence

from church for four weeks

with a winter’s illness

and now she was back!

I continued to sing

along with my mother beside of me,

the little girl across the aisle,

and the congregation that surrounded me.

I then "heard" 

my grandmother’s voice, 

sliding up and down the notes

as she so often did

with the old hymns.

As a child, I would giggle

when I would hear her sing,

running the familiar notes together.

It was a gift on Sunday

for me to hear her voice 

once again in my memories.

I miss her.

I will now admit

to sliding up and down 

a few notes during the singing

of the hymn,

in memory of her.

Sunday, when I sang, 

“I heard an old, old story

how a Saviour came from glory,

how he gave his life on Calvary,

to save someone like me”

I realized that it was because

of my mother and grandmother

and a childhood of the

teaching, preaching, singing and worship 

in this church,  

as well as the old hymns

sung by countless people

who have surrounded me

over the years

that I have heard the

“old, old story.”

Sunday, as I sang 

the final refrain

I was brought to tears

by the words,

“He loved me ere I knew him”

for I know, without a doubt,

that this is a truth 

in my life.

When I want assurance the most,

when I struggle to find

prayerful words or scriptures 

at the moment

when I so desperately need them,

old hymns find their way

into the urgency

of my searching

and I sing

“It is well with my soul.”