Hymns

I grew up in a family that always loved hymns. The truth of that last sentence was clearly brought home to our family during the last year of my father's life. He was diagnosed with a mass on his liver which probably was there because of pancreatic cancer. He knew his days on earth were numbered. He shared with my sister, Karen, how the night time was the most difficult for him. Often he would wake up and it was during those quiet hours of darkness that Satan would go into overtime with notions of doubt and despair. By dad said it was almost as if he could feel the struggle for his soul. My sister suggested that dad focus on the hymns; that when he was awake and alone, he should sing some of the old hymns of the church. What an excellent idea she had! So many of those old hymns are mini-lessons that teach sound biblical doctrine wrapped in beautiful, soothing melodies.

Well, if you ever met my dad, you would know that he never took anything halfway! Before long, each of us was given a calendar and dad wrote the title of a hymn for everyday of the year. That gesture deeply connected our family during that coming year. Everyday, no matter where we were, each of us was singing the same hymn of praise at some point throughout our day. And so often the words of the hymn-for-the-day were words that we needed to focus on at that very moment.

Mom and dad took it a step further. They found a book that shared the background story of the hymn. It became their practice to look up the story for the daily hymn, read the story, and then sing the hymn together. A few weeks before my father passed, I had the joy of hearing them reading the story together. I was in the kitchen doing the supper dishes while they were together in the study. Dad was in a hospital bed full time by then and mom was sitting in her rocking chair. She was reading the story to dad - a "role-reversal" of sorts because dad was always the one to read aloud any type of devotional in our family. But now my mom was doing what my dad could no longer do. And at the end of the story, by memory, together they sang the hymn.

Yesterday I spoke to mom on the phone and a hymn came up during our brief conversation. She told me that my niece's children (mom's great-grandchildren!) had sung in the chapel service at her retirement home. They sang two songs, one of which was a request from mom. She asked them to sing, "Have Thine Own Way, Lord". She said that was a hymn sung at her wedding. I never knew that. Yet another evidence of the significant role hymns had always played in my parents' life together.

Many of you know that this has been a trying month for our family with the loss of Bill's job and no clear prospects that we know of - despite the fact that he has submitted at least 75 resumes to various companies. So today, we started singing hymns. The first one we sang? "Have Thine Own Way, Lord". Singing those words seemed to usher us directly to His throne of grace, gave us hope, re-established our joy, and refreshed our perspective.

Have Thine own way, Lord! Have Thine own way!

Thou art the Potter, I am the clay.

Mold me and make me after Thy will,

While I am waiting, yielded and still.

Have Thine own way, Lord! Have Thine own way!

Search me and try me, Master, today!

Whiter than snow, Lord, wash me just now,

As in Thy presence humbly I bow.

Have Thine own way, Lord! Have Thine own way!

Wounded and weary, help me, I pray!

Power, all power, surely is Thine!

Touch me and heal me, Savior divine.

Have Thine own way, Lord! Have Thine own way!

Hold o’er my being absolute sway!

Fill with Thy Spirit ’till all shall see

Christ only, always, living in me.

Adelaide Pollard was depressed and thought that God had deserted her. Shehad a great burden for the country of Africa and she believed that sheshould go there as a missionary, but now as she was preparing to sail, itwas evident that the funds she needed could not be raised. That evening she read Jeremiah 18:3,4, the story of the potter. As she read, she believed the story was her own. "Perhaps", she said, "my questioning of God's will shows a flaw in life, so God has decided to break me, as the potter broke the defective vessel, and then to mold my life again in His own pattern." That evening she wrote the poem, which became the hymn, "Have Thine Own Way,Lord." Adelaide Pollard finally did minister for God in Africa. She would speak publicly until she was 72 years old.

*Looks like Adelaide and I have a few things in common! She likes to use lots of exclamation marks (did you see them in the hymn?) and so do I! And look at that last sentence...I hope someday I get to be a speaker and speak until I am 72!!! (Hope it's soon, because I'm starting to close in on "age 72"!!!!)