|Dad on a Sunday morning with his Bible and my brother|
(not the way I picture him - but a cool picture anyway)
The other day, a friend of mine asked me to suggest some hymns because her grandmother had passed away. I spent a morning thumbing through our hymnal recalling one song after the other. Peace overwhelmed as I the tunes played through my mind and words lifted from my tongue. At times, tears won out at the mixture of sadness and joy as thoughts of Dad crept in.
For a time, Dad was the song leader at our church. I remember him sitting in the pew, hymnal in hand, marking the songs he wanted the congregation to sing together. The picture of him standing at the pulpit, dressed in his suit, directing us with his hands, reminds me how worship was more enjoyable because my daddy was leading us.
I began writing this morning to talk about the way my friend’s request reminded me how much I crave time alone with my God. Singing hymns reminded me of the fact that I need to do more than just spend time consistently reading the Bible and lifting my requests to my Lord in prayer. I need to continually spend time worshipping and acknowledging the Almighty for who He is.