Sitting up in the middle of last night, I was blessed by a TV channel that played hymns while nature scenes scrolled across the screen. Oceans, mountains, wildlife, butterflies perched on marigolds. My heart, although beating irregularly from a medical condition, rejoiced in the wonder of God’s creation. From time to time a Bible verse popped up, offering hope and encouragement and reminding me that God is on His throne.
I am thankful beyond all measure that my parents took me to church as a child. The hymns evoked images of Sundays in a little country church. Preachers who preached from their hearts. Sunday school teachers who wore pearls and laced up, chunky heeled shoes. Kneeling for communion. Sweating in the summer heat. Giggling with girlfriends in the back pew.
A ruby red poppy fluttered across the screen and reminded me of poppies that grew in our farm’s flowerbeds. At the end of summer we shook seeds from dry pods to replant the following year. The wonder of plants and seasons amazed me then and still does. My father’s favorite hymn was “In the Garden.”
The hymns of the church taught me theology. The wonder of the cross. Victory through the blood. The story of Calvary. Precious Jesus. Lyrics burned themselves into my heart and soul. My Christian heritage would be so poor without them.
I love choruses too, although I wonder if they will have the durability of hymns. I hope they imprint themselves on young minds as the hymns did on mine.
We take for granted the opportunity to worship together, but consider what a blessing and privilege it is. And how important it will be to your children when they are adults and we are long gone from this earth.
So plan ahead. Set the Sunday morning alarm, pull sleepyheads from beds, pour milk on cereal, load up the car and go. The hymns and choruses will echo in your children’s heads years and years to come. And isn’t that the dream of every Christian mother?
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