Musically speaking….it’s hit or miss in the genes <3

Well, it seems I was off on the official day of Autumn this week. And I was not alone. 

As we packed up our songbooks and Bibles and such to leave the church service at the memory care facility yesterday we chatted with a gentleman who was visiting his wife. He though it was on Sunday, I apparently had pegged it for Monday and my song-leading friend thought it was on Tuesday. 

By all accounts on the internet she was right. 

Let it be noted that his sweet wife who resides in said facility just kept smiling and giving me hugs and could have cared less what day it fell on so that was precious and put the whole debate in perspective.  

We were lower in numbers yesterday for the service so some of us filled in the empty chairs. One of the songs was “How Great Thou Art” and as I sat holding my red school folder with the copies of all the songs, I ended up closing my eyes and listening to the melody around me. 

This song is one of the old hymns that draws me back to childhood. I pictured standing between my dad with his perfect pitch baritone and my mom with her likewise lovely soprano as the notes soared around me. 

I have pitch but it’s more like hunt and peck. I aim for any note I can hit and warble between all the parts until they go too high or too low and then I switch to something different. 

My father and his siblings, my mother and her siblings all could sing beautifully. They donned those archaic silk choir robes with the satin sash thing that went over them and held their books out and rounded their lips and were amazing. 

My sister can sing. Our three children can sing and play any instrument they set their minds to.

But alas, I can only sit amongst the talented and enjoy their efforts. Unfortunately I also can hear all the off notes and have had to attempt to master the art of poker face when listening to an off key instrument or human. 

So yesterday as the voices ebbed and flowed around me, I heard my parents voices again. And my aunt who could hit high notes that would break crystal. And I smiled as I wondered what they look like in the heavenly choir. 

Will I recognize them without their glasses and graying hair? Will my dad still have some sour ball candy in his pocket for his wiggly, warbling daughter? I doubt we will care about such things. 

How wonderful to think that the Lord loves our voices just as they are. What a beautiful thought we will all raise them in perfect harmony with every tribe, tongue and nation some day. 

He truly art great, isn’t He?