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MY LIFE FLOWS ON
IN ENDLESS SONG
(Note: we had
permission to print the text during Lent but have had to remove
the text after Lent. Refer to your hymnal for the text.)
I can see myself
in heaven, standing there in front of God, singing a
breathtakingly beautiful aria with the celestial choir.
There is at least
one problem with this scenario. I sing like a frog. My future as a
soloist is as bleak in heaven as it has been here on earth.
I was one of
those kids told to lip-synch during the Sunday school Christmas
program. My beloved grandfather used to call me Little Missy
One-Note. Now that I’m grown up, Papa Tom sings bass and Mama
Dallas can’t quite hit high tenor.
I really
shouldn’t sing in public, at least not loud enough for anyone to
hear. I shouldn’t. But on any given Sunday you’ll find me in
church, belting out the tunes with gusto.
The songs of the
church are the songs of my heart. They are the birthing songs, the
baptizing songs, the marrying songs, the burying songs, the songs
of growing up and growing old. They are the songs my memory sings
when I wake in the middle of the night.
Lent, the season
of introspection, has officially begun. I feel the ashes on my
forehead. Lent is a time for sorrow and repentance, a time to
remember the ultimate sacrifice God made for his creation. Maybe I
should just sit quietly in thoughtful silence, hearing again the
story of Jesus on the road to crucifixion. But I know how the
story ends. The Lord my Savior liveth.
My toes are
tapping and my heart is jumping. Since Christ is Lord of heaven
and earth, how can I keep from singing?
Bless you, Lord,
for the grace we have received through the life, death and
resurrection of Jesus. Teach us to sing, Lord, so that we will be
brave enough to sing for you.
Dallas Cronk
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