Laying on a song

We all brought something.  Well,  mostly I just waited for everyone to get there so I could eat. She came in carrying the Word under that bright blue sky kissed by sunshine. She came in carrying Pilates Mats and Mexican Trains and arms full of hugs for everyone.  She also had so tootsie pops and Twizzlers.   She came with a wounded eye, her sense of humor and her loving presence but mostly she brought the song.  She brought the song.

It was Sunday morning.  Our last morning of our women's fellowship retreat.  It was epic.  That all I can of thinkof to say.  It was epic. My son would be so proud of me using the word epic in the vernacular.  We were gathering for porch church and invited the couple across the street, but I think they thought we were going to have an offering, so they declined.  We were going to have an offering just not the kind where they scan your twenties.  (One of the many, many useful things I learned this weekend is that this is apparently a common practice at CVS at Christmas).

She brought the song.  She carried that song in her heart all the way from her roots in the mountains of NC.  I did not knowshe was a song carrier.  But I do now. 

My daddy was a member of a southern gospel quartet and he said when you laid on a song,  you gathered around the bed of the sick or depressed and you sang to them.  Those lovely soulful songs. Those old spirituals with very simple melodies and complex harmonies. He said it healed them. My dad said you sang loud and you sang with your heart.  He hoped you would sign all four verses. He also hoped you could carry a tune but he often said that God didn't really care if you could or not,  God just plain liked singing.  Very loud singing.  

My dad loved to sing.  He knew all the verses in the church hymnal and all the tunes.  He knew every single one of them.  You just never knew which words to which tune he might choose to sing.  You might be singing Precious Lord, Take My Hand and change in the middle to Just Closer Walk to Thee.  One time in church, he was leading the singing, and we started out signing Guide Me Thou O Great Jehovah, and somewhere along the third verse we started singing Saviour Like a Shepherd Lead Us. He made up some words. He sang lead with his quartet, so you can just imagine.  He said it was fine if you forgot words and just starting humming in the middle and pick up when the words came to you.  It didn't matter much to my dad as long as that song was sung well and loud, very loud with all your heart.  Daddy also had some very peculiar, strong feelings about what to do with hymnals but that is another story for another day.  Oh, I forgot to mention.  My dad was the worship leader in church when I was growing up.  Daddy would also make the congregation do repeats if we didn't sing loud or well enough.  He would stand up and say, "Church, we gotta redo that one."

At porch church Sunday morning, she brought her song and when it was all sung and done..we had laid on a song...I mean we had really laid on a song...The birds were singing, the clouds swaying, the sunshine bursting, the skies so blue it could pop.  It was a beautiful, glorious day. (And right here, right now, thanks to Dad I am humming the hymn- O Glorious Day).

She opened with song.  "Pass Me  Not O Gentle Saviour."  She brought the melody and the harmony.  I just brought loud. We nailed it .  We sung it so well the birds shut up.  The dogs quit barking.  The clouds swayed.  The sun shone brighter.  The wind applauded and the trees and flowers stood taller.  The ocean clapped with waves.  That's how good it was.  We nailed it.  We laid on a song.

 I am a daughter after her father's own heart and he taught me to sing loud.  I never did quite learn to sing as well or as pretty as Dad.  In fact, I can't carry a tune and sing very flat on any given occasion.  Daddy always wondered how he raised a tone deaf child.  I think the song carrier learned that when she said, "You sing loud."  It made me laugh so very, very hard.  Yep.  I sing loud.  Yep.  I sing all four verses even if I make them up.  Yep. Daddy would have been proud of  porch church and I  wish Daddy could have heard the song carrier and the others.  I wish he could have. 

The song carrier blessed me beyond measure at porch church, Sunday.  Jesus could not have passed us by that morning.  Nope. No way.  I am convinced God stood still that morning and said..."now that...that... is what I call laying on a song".  And I think all the angels in heaven stopped their singing just to hear the song carrier and the rest of us. I think the only thing they said was..."Yes and Amen! We can't wait for the song carrier and her friends to join us.  (Even the loud one). But we are thinking that for now...for now...the song carrier and her friends need to hang out on porches and every  once in a while lay on a song....lay on a song..."

Yes and amen my friends...be grateful for singing and always sing extra loud and always sing an extra verse or two..even if you are making it up as you go along....and never be afraid to sing on porches and invite the neighbors...

Kathleen