JULY 26

PSALMS, HYMNS AND SPIRITUAL SONGS

Anyone who knows me at all knows that I have refused to give up the old hymns. On my piano sits a weathered hymnbook and some old gospel songbooks that would probably be some of the items I would rescue in case of a fire. For me, it’s something like “love and marriage”…hymns and Sharon.

My love affair with hymns (and when I fall in love, it will be forever) began at age fifteen. Perhaps it was before that since I was immersed in excellent Christian music from the age of four. As a tiny child I walked into the world of one of those hard-ever-to-duplicate churches, where a wall of musical treasure was erected around me, a wall constructed of choir music which included classical and gospel and hymns, truly special “special music” and congregational singing that is difficult to describe, define or give adequate credit to. The whole music program touched my life and pulled me into an experience of participation as well as listening.

But something happened to me at age 15 that etched upon my heart and soul an appreciation, respect, and need for the old songs from days gone by. At the time, it did not dawn on me that it would be a “forever” love affair, but in that particular era of fear and crisis as a teen, my life forever changed because of the profound comfort and rock solid strength derived from my first real encounter with a hymn.

It was 1958. Posters listing the warning signs about cancer appeared everywhere. They were on the buses and trains, on the front doors of office buildings, in the doctor’s office…everywhere. My growing up environment leaned towards worrying about one’s physical condition and towards not talking about such things, so when I “discovered” that I had four of the seven signs, I bore my significant fear and inner pain pretty much on my own. The fear was real and intense.

Outwardly, no one knew of my distress, for I carried on with the interesting and full life of a highschooler, studying for tests, walking the halls with my friends, involved at church, and engrossed with particular boys. On the inside and when alone, I was worried. That is when I ran across the words of “How Firm a Foundation.” Being blessed with a somewhat remarkable memory, the words of the five verses in my hymnbook became part of me. Imagine discovering these words while in the pits of despair: “Fear not I am with thee, oh, be not dismayed, for I am thy God, I will still give thee aid; I’ll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand, upheld by My gracious omnipotent hand.”

It was not to be the last time when the words of a hymn set my feet upon a rock. It would happen again and again throughout my life. Like strong arms holding me up, the message of this great hymn gave me hope and began to teach me of the power of God, of His incredible care, and of the wonders of His word.

“The soul that on Jesus hath leaned for repose, I will not, I will not desert to his foes. That soul, though all hell should endeavor to shake, I’ll never, no never, no never forsake.”