I don't know exactly what it is that opened the gates, but I am more and more like my grandmother daily. While I sat in the sanctuary of the First Congregational Church in midtown Memphis, it was as if I could feel not see Hettie with her hand laying on her leg in a half fist around a Kleenex tapping to emphasize her joy at hearing good music. Aaron Copeland's arrangement of Shall We Gather at the River was performed by a male soloist. It made me cry. Then the congregation, as lead by the choir sang acapella the hymn Take My hand, Precious Lord and I promise I heard Mahalia Jackson over my shoulder. It was powerful.
That was when I knew Hettie was sharing her spirit with me. Then, the next day I heard Steven Curtis Chapman's I Will Be Here while plundering in a thrift shop in Southhaven, MS. There I was, hiding my tears while looking at handbags. Turns out the song was a mega-hit in the early 90s and played at a zillion weddings, but I'd never heard it. This week, my friend Julie had me on the search to find her fave tear-jerker, I Can Only Imagine.
So turn up the volume. Restart the song and sob with me, friend.
P.S. The song may no longer be loaded..... if needed - stop the player above to the right and click here
28 January 2008
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1 comment:
I don't recall you talking in your sleep, but I can definitely attest to your snorting and snoring! Next road or bike trip, I'm bringing ear plugs for me and nose strips for you.
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