October 30, 2013

Reflections

Many educators enumerate the benefits of parents reading to theirchildren. My personal experience exemplifies the positive impact of singing to our children as well. 

My father died March 9, 2010, at the age of 94. Shortly after that I underwent surgery with no guarantee that I would survive, and found myself reviewing my own life and comparing it to that of my dad. 

I was much younger than my father was when he died, and I had not accomplished the things my father had during his lifetime. Yes, I had graduated from college and received a bachelor’s degree. My father didn’t get past eighth grade. But that’s not the type of accomplishment I’m talking about. What I’m referring to are the truly important things of life.

My father was steadfast in providing for his family. He rose early each morning to go to work in a dirty, noisy factory because he loved us. Sometimes he worked a second job stocking shelves at a local grocery store. He also was a committed Christian. He never failed to take time for prayer and reading God’s Word. Fellow employees recognized the Christian values he held.31 1

My dad was especially devoted to his children. Often he had to work late in the evening for his second job, but my brother and I would stay awake just so we could see him. Dad would kneel beside our beds and pray for us, and sometimes he would sing to us. He had a beautiful deep voice, and we loved hearing it. Many times his singing helped us to fall asleep.

My father loved the old hymns, probably because he remembered singing them in church along with his brother, sister, and parents when he was young. One of his favorites was “In the Garden,” and as he sang this hymn I felt as if I was there with him in that garden, walking with Jesus.

Another favorite was “What a Friend We Have in Jesus.” My dad’s love for Jesus, his personal friend and Savior, was evident when he sang the verses of that hymn. Even as a young child, I knew that my father had heard Jesus’ call, “O sinner, come home,” and had invited Jesus to rule his heart. I longed for that same experience.

My dad also loved “The Old Rugged Cross.” Tears were in his voice as he sang about Jesus being nailed to the cross, and I can remember tears welling up in my own eyes when he would sing that song to me.

I was out of state visiting my son when I heard that Dad had been diagnosed with a brain tumor. Initially the prognosis was six months to a year, but only a short time later my sister called and advised me to come quickly. The tumor was very aggressive, and if I delayed, she said I likely wouldn’t see him alive again. So I immediately made flight arrangements.

When I arrived at his bedside, Dad gripped my hand tightly. I stayed with him that evening after everyone else had left. I talked to him and told him what a difference his prayers had made in my life. I also assured him that I remembered the hymns he sang to us when we were kids. Then—even though my voice is not as good as his—I sang to him. Before he slipped into his final sleep that very night, I sang to him the songs he had sung to me as a boy. I know the last thing he heard was my singing to him, and the next thing he will see is his blessed Savior.

God is so good! I am thankful to God that I was able to see and talk and sing to my dad before he passed away. But most of all, I am thankful that my father sang to me as a child.

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