Some time back, I recall an elderly woman visiting our church. Several people visit our church from week to week, but for some reason this woman has remained in the back of my mind. She did not stick out in the crowd of people, she did not look any different than anyone else, and she did not necessarily do anything special to draw my attention to her; yet I have not forgotten her.
The woman was sitting with a family whose baby was being baptized. I can only assume she was the great grandma to the little one wrapped in white. What joy it must have been for her to watch her grandchildren present their child before the Lord, knowing the next generation of her family would be raised knowing His goodness. Yet, this is not what struck me about the woman. What caught my attention happened at the end of the service.
When Mike completed his message, we closed with a couple songs. The first was a praise song. As I was singing, I was interrupted when I caught a glimpse of the woman standing and just looking at the screen. She was not singing, just looking ahead with a straight face. At the moment, I thought she must not know the song. I watched a moment longer and returned my attention to the music and eventually found myself worshiping – allowing the words to sink into my heart and turning my focus toward God.
For me, praise music is something that speaks to me. It carries me through a rough day; I crank it up when I’m busy; I have it streaming through earbuds when I am mowing lawn; and it is a must when I am driving in my car. Perhaps it most speaks to me when our church family comes together in one voice – often moving me to moistened eyes. Why did she not feel the same way?
When we wrapped up the song, the praise team led us into a familiar hymn. As we began to sing, I saw something very different in this lovely, elderly woman. What I saw was a woman singing the beautiful old hymn with great joy. Her entire body moved with each changing chord and I smiled as I watched her sing. The hymn was speaking to her heart, just like the previous song had spoken to mine. She was joyfully singing praises to her King. It was this song that brought her before the thrown of God, each word penetrating her heart, praising her Father in Heaven.
I experienced a lot in those brief moments. I saw a gap in age, preference in music, and even experienced a slight frustration when she did not like the same song I did. Yet it was on this day, God revealed to me how He speaks to us all differently, through different experiences in life and yes, even in different styles of music.
May it be said of us that our heart is focused on worshiping God and not the choice of music. And may we rejoice when God tunes the heart of all his children to hear his voice.
1Come, let us sing for joy to the Lord; let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation. 2Let us come before him with thanksgiving and extol him with music and song. (Psalm 95)
Becky Ossefoort