When We Do Not Feel LIke Singing--Can We Take Heart from the Songs of Others?

Last Sunday morning was one of those times when one of life's storms had crashed us up against the rocks.
I was flat on the bed after breakfast, thinking I wasn't going to even be able to get up much less go to church. But I knew I needed to be around people, and the children had already started walking to a church nearby, and by sheer will power, and Jonathan's help,
I made it up and out to the van.

I hadn't even thought of putting the Sunday roast into the crockpot the night before,

so when Jonathan asked where the lunch crockpot was,

I had to admit it was nowhere!

We decided we'd have hamburgers for lunch.

Until we got to church.

And we saw one person after another bringing crockpots to the fellowship hall,

and the pastor greeted us warmly and immediately insisted that we join them for their Thanksgiving potluck after service.

We learned later that the church had just recently been through a problem in which quite a number of people left. There were no longer the Saturday evening and early Sunday morning contemporary services, just this one traditional service.

 The folk were more than welcoming, and we so appreciated the many old hymns and songs,

and the young pianist who had taught himself to play piano and accompanied so simply and yet so well.

He and his mother also played stringed instruments for the special, "Amazing Grace,"

and then he sang, "I'm Drinking From My Saucer 'Cause my Cup Has Overflowed."

He sang it in such a simple way, playing the guitar exactly the way we like it!

 And when more than one person insisted we stay and help them eat the generous meal,

we were too hungry and spent to say no!

While waiting, the pianist's father, a rancher, asked us if we had animals, and when Jonathan and the children went down the list and told him we'd just been given a horse, 

he asked quickly, "Do you have a saddle?"

 Okay, where was this going?
Well, the next day, we were the new owners of an old saddle that was just getting dusty in their garage!

Plus all at the same time, we also met a neighbor who attends there.

He is a Gideon.

About 10 or 12 years ago, someone from his place had been riding by our property and our dogs chased them, and the person got very mad and hollered at me, and I ended up sitting on our dog to keep it from chasing the horse, and after that, the children and I were petrified of those neighbors!

What a blessing to have this kind man introduce himself and offer to help anytime we needed it.

And all the petrification left. Thank You Jesus!

In a recent article in desiringgod.org., I was touched by an article that talked about how sometimes others have the voice we need when we don't feel like singing in church. The author wrote,

"Each Sunday, a good portion of our churches gather for worship with genuine anticipation for singing, praying, and hearing the word. But not everyone. Life is too real, and the ancient fall of Genesis 3 is still too valid, to think nobody walks into church with scars, shame, or even cold apathy... Even the most stably enthusiastic in our gatherings have had Sundays when we wished our hearts burned more brightly. We experience an inner struggle in these moments. On the one hand, we know that we should sing because we’re at church. On the other, it’s good to be authentic and real, so it feels like a lie to sing when we don’t feel like it. Is it better to be honest and silent than an audible hypocrite?

"Of course, we don’t want to portray something false about ourselves. Nevertheless, we have at least two good reasons for us to open our mouths and lift our voices even when we don’t feel like it.

"You Have the Voice Your Neighbor Needs"

 

"People in every congregation have no voice at times. They’re not singing, but not because they don’t want to. They’re weak and worn, and in that hour they can hardly speak, much less sing. Maybe it’s a young woman who can’t sing “It Is Well” because that Sunday marks one year since her mother’s death, or a young couple who can’t sing “Great Is Thy Faithfulness” a few days after another miscarriage.

"In God’s infinite love, he has not left these people alone. Instead, he has ordained for corporate worship to work not only vertically, but horizontally. In that moment, when the broken believer struggles to address God, we remember that God has told us to address one another with our songs (Ephesians 5:19).

"When we don’t feel like singing, we have an opportunity to consider the interests of others and count them more significant than our own (Philippians 2:3–4). We have the privilege, in a way, to open our mouths for the mute (Proverbs 31:8). You may not want to sing, but the person next to you, in front of you, or behind you may need you to sing. The sight and sound of your singing may impress on them the truths of the gospel, or spur them to believe, with the psalmist, “Because your steadfast love is better than life, my lips will praise you” (Psalm 63:3).

"The sight and sound of God’s people singing is a powerful, stirring exhortation for struggling hearts to believe the truths they hear sung around them. The next Sunday you’re inclined to keep quiet, remember your neighbors and sing their song."

For the entire article, see: http://www.desiringgod.org/articles/what-if-i-don-t-want-to-sing?utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Daily%20Desiring%20God&utm_content=Daily%20Desiring%20God+CID_f78d7de4e3ea6647ab6a3183ade4418b&utm_source=Campaign%20Monitor&utm_term=What%20If%20I%20Dont%20Want%20to%20Sing