My Life Flows On in Endless Song

My life flows on in endless song

above earth's lamentation,

I hear the real, though far-off hymn

that hails a new creation.

Through all the tumult and the strife

I hear it's music ringing.

It sounds an echo in my soul.

How can I keep from singing?

No storm can shake my inmost calm

while to that Rock I'm clinging.

Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth,

how can I keep from singing?

Church choir has started.  I'm excited to be the accompanist.  It will keep me practicing and meeting new people. Our director Kris Henry picked this hymn to commemorate the ten-year anniversary of September 11 this Sunday.

Each of us remembers our own experience of 9/11.  On that morning Bill called me from his desk at nwa to share the news.  I was dozing in bed nursing our first newborn baby.  The rest of the day I sat in a rocking chair in the living room holding baby Calvin, looking out the window at the plane-less sky.  Wondering.

Our country, each of us, turns to music for comfort.  Our classical music radio station is asking for requests of music for Sunday as well.  Yes, Kris, music is powerful.

Again in September, eight years later, my precious sister conducted my Dad's choir in this same arrangement of How Can I Keep From Singing, at his own funeral.  It became our memorial mantra, partially because my Dad was a singer.  We liked the idea of his life flowing on in song.  Mostly, we liked it because of the deeper meaning.

I can still hear my Dad, in the hospital bed, singing through the LBW hymn book with me, the last morning I spent with him. He had suffered a stroke and was unable to speak clearly, but was still singing those bass parts strong and sure.  I don't say that to be dramatic--I say that because music is powerful.  Deep parts of our brain respond to music when they can't respond to anything else.

The bad news is, I can still hear his voice singing all those hymns every week.  I can even hear him clear his throat before taking a breath.

The good news is, I can still hear his voice singing those hymns every week.

The Christmas after we lost my Dad, Bill bought me a piece of art by Kristen Malcomb Berry.  It has the following scripture in Greek, with a house on a rock:

When a flood arose,
the river burst against that house
but could not shake it. 
Luke 6:48

I wasn't completely successful about the inmost calm part--but we are still here, the storm did not take our family.

September 11 did not take our country.

Art is powerful. Music is powerful. Faith is powerful.