My Savior

I visited a church this past Sunday whose congregation size felt larger than the population of my town. Finding a spot near the front, I hoped I was not taking anyone’s regular pew space. As I sat alone, I heard people greet one another, saw many hugs and handshakes, and viewed the praise band as they began their pre-service countdown set.

I felt like a wind chime hanging from a branch on a still day – seen but given little notice. I did not turn around when a man entered the pew behind me. I felt his presence, even smelled his cologne as he went from standing to sitting… a mix of sandalwood and citrus.

Someone soon followed the man, a woman who commented on how pleased she was to see him back. “Seems like ages since I’ve laid eyes on you,” she teased.

“Well, my grandboy just moved out. I was going to his church most Sundays. Sometimes we just stayed in. You know, I’ve got one foot in the grave, and I finally have the house to myself.” I can hear him laugh in a way that makes me think he is also shaking his head side-to-side.

“You don’t have that many years on me. Since my husband passed, I’ve learned how to be alone. Twelve years in October. Twelve years.”

“My Gertie has been gone about that long. I never thought I would be the one left.” He paused just enough to give me a pang in my heart. “Well, I’ll tell you something, she would’ve laid down the law with our grandboy – I don’t think he was ever taught how to wash a dish.”

“Believe it or not, you’ll miss those dirty dishes,” she replied.

The man did not follow the natural pattern of the conversation; instead, he hung on one word from her reply: miss.

“What I miss is her cooking. She fixed my favorite meal every Sunday afternoon, and she didn’t even like red meat.”

I knew what he was saying: he missed being loved by someone who knew him. He missed being loved by Gertie. “My Gertie,” he called her.

The countdown set faded as the praise band revved up the volume, kicking off the service and inviting us all to stand. I had never heard the first three songs, so I was thankful the words were displayed on screens. By the time the third song ended, I was questioning my choice of footwear.

Hymn writer William P. Merrill said, “There is nothing in the world so much like prayer as music is.”

It was not until near the end of the fourth song that I fully understood the meaning of this quote. I no longer noticed my discomfort. This song I knew beyond the words. As the chorus repeated, the band silenced. Only voices.

The Holy Spirit’s presence kicked up the stilled wind chime within my soul, the people near me, and those beyond my vision. In a powerful, almost tangible upsurge, we were unleashed from ourselves and tethered to someone who brought us together: Christ Jesus. Different voices filled the space, and I couldn’t help but chide myself for initially thinking this building was too big. Now, it felt as if the roof was swelling.

My voice caught in the raw honesty of the moment, and without knowing, I fell as silent as the band. My tear-filled eyes expressed what my mouth could no longer vocalize. Not until I heard his voice, did I realize I was no longer singing aloud. I heard him behind me: the same man from earlier. Now, his words wrapped around me like a prayer shawl.

How marvelous! How wonderful!

And my song shall ever be:

How marvelous! How wonderful!

Is my Savior’s love for me!

("I Stand Amazed in the Presence" - Charles H. Gabriel)

He sang as one convinced; one who was reminded this morning that he was loved and known. The passion found within his broken voice brought a convincing peace to my soul.

I briefly turned around, wanting to see him. I am not sure he ever saw me as he wiped his cheeks with a handkerchief, singing with his eyes closed. I would never have guessed him to look so frail. Baggy grey trousers cinched in with a brown leather belt - his wedding band worn upon a boney hand covered in purple bruises.

“The LORD is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped. My heart leaps for joy and I will give thanks to him in song” (Psalm 28:7).

Despite how frail, alone, or misunderstood we may feel, we can stand amazed in the presence of Christ Jesus’ love for us. And in the promises and faithfulness of our Savior, we find strength, protection, help, and joy.

“My Savior,” he sang.