Sunday morning's music service a couple of weeks ago seemed especially poignant somehow. The impact of it has not gone away, and I think it is worth making note of.
From the expressions on many faces, I think others felt it too, and Mrs. Renae mentioned it the next Wednesday night in class. Perhaps it was the exceptional songs, rich with musical excellence, but more importantly, with deep theological meaning:
"Jesus Messiah"
"There Are No Orphans Of God"
"You Are My King"
"Refiner's Fire"
"Beneath The Cross Of Jesus"
and "Amazing Love"
There was a strong sense of unity and oneness among the people there, and the Spirit of the Lord seemed to be infused into the very air as we sang for and to Him. It was an amazing time! The kind of Sunday morning that you remember for years, and pull out of your cranial file cabinet periodically to savor and enjoy again.
But I also had a strange keen feeling of something like sadness - a bitter/sweet premonition-like feeling that moments like this would soon be only precious memories. I don't have any idea, of course, how long religious freedom will still be ours, but I often wonder how long it will be - and how prepared we will be - when the Christ-followers here in America will be forced to meet secretly because of the hatred against us, and the danger we are in. So many dear believers are now, in other countries, suffering for the sake of our Lord, and if we are truly His, it will come to us eventually.
I pray often, so often, that if it comes in the lifetime of the Victory Rd. members, that we will be strong and courageous, loving, humble, and brave, willing to suffer or die if need be, for each other and for Christ. That our God will give us the wisdom to know when to hide and when to be bold, and the courage to face whatever comes with joy and strength - most of all, that we will be ready, and will stay true to Him.
Trissy and I both sing in the choir at Victory Rd., and that Sunday morning as these and similar thoughts passed through my mind, as the rich words of the precious hymns lifted with all the voices, my eyes rested on face after dear face in the audience before me and on the platform beside me. And as I thought of what we may eventually face, it was all I could do to keep the emotions that were welling up inside me from spilling out in full force. For, though I had seen tears in the eyes of several others in the congregation, when I looked over and saw both Mrs. Shannen and Bro. Earl with tears running down their faces, the ones trickling down mine threatened to become a flood.
The thought of suffering for the sake of Christ is, in a strange way, both exciting and terrifying. Peter, Paul, and so many other of the great heroes of the Faith counted it something to be thankful for - that they were thought worthy to suffer horrible tortures from others, for Jesus' name's sake. And what an honor if the Lord should think me and my dear people worthy! Yet the thought of it also horrifies me!
I've heard that it's easier to go through a difficult time oneself, than to see someone you love suffer, and I can believe it. When I consider the possibility of some of those I love being viciously persecuted for their Faith in Christ, I am overcome with sadness.
Though for this season God has blessed us in America with freedom to worship and serve Him, I believe we should be prepared for the possibility of losing that blessing. I also believe we should be working for His cause with all the hope and zeal and anticipation of a revival! The apostle Paul thought the Lord would come back in his lifetime and that was two thousand years ago! We may have hundreds of years yet!
Either way, we must be ready to give an answer, to serve others and to serve Christ with love and bravery, and to do this to the best of our ability and with the height of our potential.
And we must never forget to be thankful for and to cherish each precious moment with all of our heart!
The music part of the service ended, and the musicians and singers went to their seats. When I got to our pew, I got a pen and the morning's bulletin and wrote:
"Dear God keep us true!! Whatever comes, keep us true!!
Dear God help us cherish these moments with all our hearts, so that when they are gone, we may revisit this holy place & receive strength."
I believe it was that very afternoon, as we were at The Grandparents' house for Sunday dinner, that Trissy went into their living room to the old upright piano and began playing hymns. The only one she got through before lunch was ready was "When I Can Read My Title Clear". Fitting, don't you think? Funny how the Lord works little things like that out.
For anyone who may not know this precious old hymn, and would like to benefit from the words, I've included them here:
"When I can read my title clear
To mansions in the skies,
I bid farewell to every fear,
And wipe my weeping eyes.
And wipe my weeping eyes,
And wipe my weeping eyes
I bid farewell to every fear,
And wipe my weeping eyes.
Should earth against my soul engage,
And hellish darts be hurled,
Then I can smile at Satan’s rage,
And face a frowning world.
And face a frowning world,
And face a frowning world,
Then I can smile at Satan’s rage,
And face a frowning world.
Let cares, like a wild deluge come,
And storms of sorrow fall!
May I but safely reach my home,
My God, my heav’n, my All.
My God, my heav’n, my All,
My God, my heav’n, my All,
May I but safely reach my home,
My God, my heav’n, my All.
There shall I bathe my weary soul
In seas of heav’nly rest,
And not a wave of trouble roll
Across my peaceful breast.
Across my peaceful breast,
Across my peaceful breast,
And not a wave of trouble roll
Across my peaceful breast."
SOLI DEO GLORIA!
-Kyrie<><
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