Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Thanksgiving 5/30: Singing

I used to spend hours--hours!--camped out in front of my parents' big stereo in the kitchen, putting on CDs and belting my heart out.

My poor little brother.


Anyway.  I realized I don't sing nearly as much as I used to; I'm working to remedy that.  Still, I've been thinking a lot about some voices that I love (and am grateful) to hear...

Older church men
It started with an eccentric gentleman who used to sing with his family band at school assemblies when I was very young.  Fast forward to my gap year between college and getting married, somehow we ended up in the same church!  Picture a darling moustache all curled up around the edges, then add a clear bluegrass voice leading "Nothing but the Blood of Jesus."

And the voices I've heard like his always get me the deepest: our pastor with his West Virginia twang, the gentleman who's hard to understand sometimes (except when he's singing a well-loved hymn), the man who fixes violins whose daughters so obviously garnered a love of music from his own...these are the voices that haunt me in the best possible way.

Gritty, soulful, Heaven-bound.

My daughter
The time change has been rough.  Yesterday, all I wanted to do was use the bathroom by myself, but the lock on the door didn't drown out the ruckus.  Oh those little fingers under the door...

I wanted to cry, but remembering that joy follows obedience, I sang the first thing that popped in my head--"Blessed Assurance."

And when I opened up the door?  Pookie joined in on the chorus.  And Scrunch stopped crying to clap along.

And peace reigned n the Jorgenson abode.

My husband
Whenever it's Professor's turn to calm a savage beast fussy babe, he turns to the old hymn book that floats around our house.  It never really worked in the night when babies just want to nurse, but I always let him try, just to hear him serenade our littles with Truth and Love.

Y'all, we are not American Idol material 'round here.  But Professor still opens up the hymn book and leads us--which is why Pookie could join in on "Blessed Assurance" or any other family favorites--because she is absorbing them bit by bit.

Hopefully, one day we'll have space for a piano, but even if we never do, we still have the old hymn book, and it's enough.

Whose voice most comforts you?

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