11.22.05

Acapella in the Dark

Posted in Uncategorized on November 22nd, 2005 at 5:26 pm by PatrickMead

by Patrick Mead There are times and places in my life where I treasure my religious inheritance. One took place last Saturday in a front yard in Rochester, Michigan. Nancy has brain cancer. She is a nurse, mother, wife, friend, and sister in Christ. The cancer is so virulent that one doctor - the one who found it - told her to go home and prepare her husband and children for life without her. Estimates on how long she has range from “not much” to “even less.” We all know that the Lord is in charge of this and He will declare her days… but these are difficult days. Her two sons and two daughters — the youngest about 10 — are doing the best they can with the news. Her devoted and loving husband is truly being heroic in his love and care for his wife. But we wanted to show her, as a church, that we loved her. So we gathered in her front yard, taking up every parking spot on both sides of her road, last Saturday evening. It was 7:30 and that means it was already very dark and very cold. We tried to keep candles lit as we stood there and prayed and sang, each one starting a song or saying a prayer as they felt led to do so. For nearly an hour we sang and prayed for her. Her husband brought her out and she stood in his embrace with her eyes closed and sang with us. Two members who have survived cancer came forward and wrapped their arms around them, singing, praying, and crying. I wondered as I stood there: can other fellowships do this? Here in the dark and cold, no PowerPoint or hymnals, no instruments to lead the way and yet I heard song after song sung from memory, four part harmony…. yes, first second and fourth verses! I was impressed by my brothers and sisters; their faith, their songs, their love. Grace was truly alive on the south edge of Rochester, Michigan. I also grieved silently for those who suffer without such a heritage, without such a church. Thank you, God, for letting me be raised in such a faith family. Thank you for the love this church has and for how freely they show it. Thank you for the old songs — the blue book songs — and for the collective memory of my tribe. And, Lord, if it be your will, please heal Nancy.