I’ve mentioned quite a few times (I do tend to repeat myself), that I love the old hymns. A friend whose husband is a Presbyterian minister remarked a few weeks ago that, although she likes the worship music they sing in Sunday services, she wishes they would include one or two of the old standard hymns in their praise time each week.
I appreciate the effort to appeal to all ages in a worship service. When our children are small, they have no choice but to go to church with their parents. But as they get older, they may tend to make church less of a priority if it doesn’t seem relevant to them. And that can include the music. A song that was written 200 years ago can sound timeless and profound or completely out of touch with life today, depending on your familiarity with it.
When my girls were teens there would often be an argument in the car about which radio station or CD to listen to. Not just between the two of them, but also with me when I decided I was tired of their choices. So, we came to an agreement of rotating who got to pick the tunes for the day. After a while we would start talking about who the singer or band was. What the song was about. And why we each liked or disliked it. It made us actually listen to the words, the voices, and the instruments.
Without realizing it, we became closer to each other through our appreciation for different styles of music.
I had a similar experience with my mother when I was a teen. Growing up we only had one television in our house. My parents weren’t big TV watchers, so most of the time, my brother and I had our picks. But, one Sunday night there was a Frank Sinatra concert special that my mother was very excited about watching. It happened to be on at the same time as Bonanza, which I watched religiously every weekend. Despite my throwing a full-blown tantrum, Mama didn’t budge. Sinatra was on and I could just sit in my room and sulk.
I could hear the concert through my closed bedroom door. After a couple of songs, I slunk out of my room and sat on the couch (as far as possible from my mother). Pretty soon I had to admit he was “really good.” And when I found out Mama had some record albums of his songs, I was hooked.
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One of the old gospel hymns I love is “Just a Closer Walk with Thee.” The author is unknown, and the song is believed to have originated among enslaved people before the Civil War. The words of the song are a plea to God to allow the author to walk close to Him. Just being in proximity to God – walking on the same path – would give him strength and protection.
It is encouraging when I see people I care about becoming closer to and appreciating each other. It warms my heart to see them becoming closer to God in their earthly walk. I am filled with joy knowing that my mother, my younger daughter, and so many of my loved ones have the privilege of walking right beside Jesus in Heaven. I have hope for the same when I join them there.
Just a closer walk with Thee,
Grant it, Jesus, is my plea,
Daily walking close to Thee,
Let it be, dear Lord, let it be.
Laura
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