The Day My Soul Did Learn to Sing

I am nine ... or so. 


Sidewalk of old winds me to the church of my heritage.

I pull open the big church door and peek in past the foyer. Shades of shadow hang and hover from ceiling to floor in the sanctuary nearly scaring me away.  Trembling, I tiptoe to the altar. 

I have come to worship Him. 

The Johnson's pew and the Daniel's pew  and the Martin and Jones' pews are all empty releasing echoes into the hollowed air. I expect each seat will be filled Sunday morning. Families will rise from their seats to sing harmonies from hymnals. 

My song will not wait for Sunday. With closed eyes, my voice of small sings remembered prose ...

"Oh Lord, my God, when I in awesome wonder, consider all the worlds Thy hands have made. 

I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder, Thy power throughout the universe displayed ...

Then sings my soul, my Saviour God to Thee, 'How great Thou art, how great Thou art'

Then sings my soul, my Saviour Got to Thee, 'How great Thou art, how great Thou art' "

My heart stretches and reaches swelling with lyric and melody. 

I grasp meaning of this song for the first time. 

I sing each phrase slowly, with meditation, gifting them to the One who listens. My heart  worships.

He opens the eyes of my heart ... I understand deeper things.

I have come into this place to bring Him a song ... He has come to give me strength. 

I sing every verse and every chorus. Are choirs of angels joining in? I imagine it so.

Another verse pierces soul ...

"And when I think, that God His Son not sparing, sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in.

That on that cross, my burden gladly bearing, He bled and died to take away my sin.

Then sings my soul, my Saviour God to Thee ..."

Hollow is filled with His presence ... I quiet myself, bowing at altar  ... engulfed in peace, I lift my head ...
 

I hear my voice soaring through the chasm of time ...

"When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation, and take me home, what joy shall fill my heart. 

Then I shall bow, in humble adoration, and there proclaim, 'my God, how great Thou art!'  Then sings my soul ..."

Tears stream down tender cheek as I gaze heavenward, expecting sky to open, hoping He will come.

I am hushed by holy ... I   wait ... savor ... listen ...

Did I hear Him say "amen"? 

I tiptoe down the aisle past all the pews awaiting Sunday push past the door back into the busy of day.

I have come to bring Him a song. Delight of heart ... He has come to listen ...

the day my soul did learn to sing.