Sunday, July 28, 2013

Dear God,

I saw the red children's blanket lying in the middle of the highway following the bus crash a thousand miles away.  Fear shot up my spine.  That blanket belonged to my granddaughter. A flowery flannel print with the edges knotted and tied, I've seen it a hundred times.  Terrified I sat there on the couch waiting to hear more.

The Baptist Church bus was within a mile from home after a 365-mile trip to church camp.  To be sure the blanket belonged to someone's grandchild, but not mine.  I began praying anyway.

To begin our morning worship service I was asked to lead the hymn sing.  I told them the story of the blanket and the horrific crash.  I asked them to sing loud enough with me so those in Indiana would hear our faith-filled sound.  We lifted our voices high and full.  We sang for those weeping, grieving their losses.  We sang for a local motorcycle cop who had been injured two days before.  In my mind's eye we were singing for those in Spain and Canada who were wounded or killed in train crashes.  We sang for those fighting for justice and democracy in the Middle East.  We sang for all those who are victims of injustice and oppression.  We sang for all hurting people.

O Lord,
thank you
for the reminder
to sing
our faith.
Thank you
for the nudge
to sing
for those
who cannot sing.
Thank you
for the joy
of singing
as a way
to strengthen
our own faith.

Love, Andrea