Recently, Mary Hastings, one of our church members, asked me what it feels like singing the hymns almost alone in the service.
I confess—it’s been difficult. I have had a choir behind me and a congregation in front of me for twenty years as a part-time and full-time music minister. I have been fortunate to be a part of two very strong singing congregations—my former church in Houston, Westbury Baptist, and my new church home of Kirkwood Baptist.
Hardly a Sunday has gone by when I do not try to imagine all of you singing at home. Although, at times, I have wondered if I am virtually singing alone (pun intended—J). I have chosen to believe otherwise, especially since last summer when we were in month three or four of the pandemic.
One day, Kendra Luber, our administrative assistant, asked me if she could take a hymnal to her grandmother, June Harter, a long-time church member and former choir member. June had asked to borrow a hymnal and expressed to her family that she was finding it hard to only see the words in the electronic guide without seeing the music. It made my heart glad to know that there was at least one at home singing along with me, especially dear June! On most any given Sunday, I picture June sitting in her living room with her hymnal on her lap singing along with me—“I will sing of my Redeemer and his wondrous love to me…Sing, O sing of my Redeemer, with his blood he purchased me, on the cross he sealed my pardon, paid the debt, and made me free.”
Nonetheless, I look forward to the day that we can all safely be in the sanctuary together and I can hear all of you singing with me, the ministers, and the accompanists in the sanctuary once again. Until then, keep singing with me—and June.
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