My story continues with part two—one year later. (See My Story—April 11, 2020.) My soon-to-be husband sang in a Southern Gospel quartet, and the group was singing at a church near our home one Saturday evening. My mom and I knew this would be a wonderful opportunity to invite Dad to church with us. We’d invited him several times over the year, but he believed it was nonsense to go to church so often. We felt certain he would want to hear Kenn sing, because Dad loved music. With all of us working hard to persuade him, he caved and agreed to go with us.
Dad enjoyed the singing, but the rest of the service was too much for him. An older gentleman stood to preach a quick message and held up a newborn baby with one hand as he walked back and forth at the front of the church. I guess Dad thought the preacher might drop the baby.
“I will never go to church with you again,” my dad said after we arrived home. “Those people are crazy!” He meant it, too.
The Lord had other plans. Although Dad said he wouldn’t go again, the following morning he dressed for church and attended with Mom and me.
I’m not sure if he received the Lord into his life that day or later. But once Dad committed his life to the Lord, he didn’t stop attending church or serving the Lord daily. In fact, when he retired from his regular job, the church became the place where he spent his days volunteering, doing everything he could do to serve the Lord. He served as the church’s clerk and in other capacities for thirty years, and he took to heart Psalm 100:2.
Worship the Lord with gladness. Come before him, singing with joy.
My earliest memory of him was sitting in his lap as a young child combing his hair. As I grew older, I remember him dancing and singing around the house and acting silly. I’m sure I didn’t think he was all that funny as a teenager, but as an adult, I loved his enthusiasm for life. Last week, when my husband told me I’m as silly as my dad was, it brought a smile to my face. I am like him.
In his sixties he took part in a video skit with his church’s music department. Dad was not a talented singer, but he liked to have fun. The skit ended with four men singing a song called “Moving on up to Glory.” The song was beautiful! However, they weren’t singing; it was a recording of the Cathedral Quartet. Dad and the other men were only lip syncing, but it appeared that these four tone-deaf men had become an overnight success. It was this same song that played in the background when Dad took his last breath. He moved on up to Glory to dance and praise the Lord as I held his hand ten years ago. I miss you, Daddy!
Let them praise his name with dancing and make music to him with timbrel and harp.
Psalm 149:3, NIV
Father, I’m thankful for Christ’s death, resurrection, and new life in Him. I pray that each person who reads this blog post has received or will receive new life in Christ. Draw them to You, Lord. May each person surrender their hearts to You and make You the Lord of their lives. In Jesus’s name. Amen.
Photo of Bible by Rod Long - Unsplash