Wonderful Grace of Jesus

I have a very small collection of old hymnals, four to be exact. I love the old hymns. I usually refer to them as “the Great Hymns of our Faith”. I think we should sing hymns more often because they hold an untold wealth of passionate and practical theology, and they rhyme. Because you sing them, the music carries the lyrics along a wide path to a special place in your brain. I could say much more about this, and someday I will, but I must get to my story. Our “Small Group” from church met recently at the home of a couple that have a piano. I know that the man of the house enjoys hymns as much as I do, so I brought along my hymnal collection. I was somewhat afraid to do so because I have no clue how to form any specific note with my voice and I knew that if I brought the hymnals I might be called on to lead. But I brought the hymnals and we gathered around the piano and sang several of the “Great Hymns of our Faith” lustily and with great joy! A couple weeks ago “Bub”, the man with the piano who loves singing hymns, was in the hospital for a serious surgical procedure. I went to visit him and, after debating with myself at some length, I brought two of my hymnals, thinking that he and I might sing a little. I got off my motorcycle in the parking lot and took several steps toward the hospital, leaving the hymnals in the trunk box. You see, I really cannot sing. I sing at lunchtime when I’m home alone. I sing in the car when no one is with me. But I don’t sing very loud in church and I don’t want anybody to hear me sing. And I certainly don’t want to accept the monumental responsibility of sounding the first note in an a cappella choir. But I turned back to the bike, retrieved the hymnals from the trunk box, and went in. Bub spotted the hymnals as soon as I entered his room. He seemed eager to sing. Our friend, Mike, was there too and he was not quite reluctant, but seemed less enthusiastic. But I had come this far so I pressed forward and suggested we sing “O, How I Love Jesus”. It’s a pretty simple tune and I know all the words so, in a safe monotone, I began to sing. Bub joined in and Mike’s lips seemed to be moving so we sang all four verses. Then we sang “Near to the Heart of God”. Bub was lying down so he couldn’t really get his diaphragm behind it or see the words. Mike is a great friend, but one hymn may have been enough for him. By the end of the second hymn I was trying so hard not to laugh! It reminded me of those painful, comedic out-takes from the American Idol tryouts! On the blessed final note we gently closed the hymnals and congratulated one another on our “joyful noise”. Just then Bub’s parents walked in. I forget their names, but they are a beautiful couple. They were well dressed with joyful faces and happy greetings. “Well here comes our Tenor!” Bub greeted them. “We didn’t mean to break up your hymn-sing” was their reply. We assured them that we were quite done unless they cared to join in, and they began to express how much they love to sing the hymns. I wasn’t sure if they were eager to sing with us, or just being polite. But I assured them that if they were serious we would love to have them join us for a final number. Bub’s Dad took a hymnal and searched the index for his favorite song, “Wonderful Grace of Jesus”. Bub’s Mom and Dad stood side-by-side holding the book and I stood beside Bubs Dad. Bub lay back on his bed with his eyes closed. (Mike’s hymnal didn’t include that particular hymn so he, sadly, had to decline.) Bub’s parents sang like members of the Gaither Homecoming crew! His Mom in a splendid Alto and his Dad in a glorious whatever-it-is that men sing in. I could see that Bub was worshipping in song and I harmonized with my signature style. By the time we sang the first verse and completed the chorus I was fighting back the tears!