Sweet Sounds From Heaven

 

All of us have a heritage. We inherit our family’s DNA and medical history. We can attribute our looks, personality and certain abilities to our generations before us. Even our outlook on life has been greatly influenced by what our families taught us. They taught it and we caught it.

My family played musical instruments and sang as far back as I can remember. We sang all the time, with or without the radio. All my aunts and uncles played something. The first few years of my life I was raised by my grandparents, so I was around aunts and uncles and music a lot. Up in the Appalachian mountains, back in the late 40′s and early 50′s, there was not a lot left to do but music. This was before television.

My oldest uncle played the fiddle and ended up in Hollywood working with Universal Studios. The rest of us just ended up picking and grinning. I remember seeing pictures of Uncle Harold in his studio. Somehow, it reminded me of the chicken house way out back of our big farm house. So, I decided I’d make me a studio. I must have been no more than five years old.

That chicken house was small and had a big window and the acoustics were really good. I figured it must have been ever bit as good as Uncle Harold’s studio. I would go there and sing and sing and sing. Nobody cared one way or the other, so I was free. Even as a child I had a strong voice;  your could hear me for a country mile.   I’d belt out everything from Jesus Loves Me to Silver Threads and Golden Needles. I just remember growing up singing.

I was introduced to chorus later in high school, what a treat. Other people who could sing, I mean really sing. What fun just singing through life. I learned to pick a guitar a little later on, and now I’m thinking, it don’t get no better than this. Me and all my hippie friends playing in the park.

Jesus got a hold of me and now my friends changed. I didn’t have to leave them, they left me like a bird leaving a roof. I had a whole different group of friends, called believers. Glory to God! He never gave up on me when I didn’t even give Him the time of day. You know, I marvel when I think about the fact that God knows the beginning from the end.

One Sunday morning as I was leaving the church after service, my pastor grabbed my hand in a hand shake grip and said, “Sandy, a little bird told me you sing. When are you going to sing for us, how about next Sunday.” I could not believe OK came out of my mouth before my mind even got into gear. On the way home I’m thinking, I can’t believe I said OK. I can’t sing in front of people; chickens yes, but not people.

I have always endeavored to be true to my word, so I started to search for the right song to sing. I decided on Behold God by Harvest. It is a great song, but pretty fast and very wordy. I kept spitting on everything since I have a lot of saliva in my mouth. I practiced and practiced and kept spitting and spitting. Finally I prayed, “Lord Jesus, please dry out my mouth when I get up to sing. Amen.” I kept practicing all week.

Sunday came and pastor called me to the platform and introduced me. “Sandy is going to minister to us in music, give her a big welcome.” I got up, my knees knocking. Somehow I ended up on the platform. Pastor hugged me and handed me the microphone.

I was scared silly. This is not the chicken house, this is the Lord’s house. I took the mic, my head still bowed. Finally, I raised my head and nodded for the person working in the sound booth to start the music. My eyes were now shut, I sure did not want to see all those people. I waited for the introduction and opened my mouth to sing.

Suddenly, it was like a heavenly wet vac suctioned out my mouth. I could not believe it. I had forgotten about my little prayer on Thursday during practice time. Obviously, God had not. My confidence level soared and I sang that song like I was a star at the Grand Ol’ Opry.

That was the first time I had ever sung in church in front of people. I still sing and God blesses me every time. He delights in hearing and answering our prayers just like He says in Proverbs 15:8, and He blesses the labor of our hands and our mouths too, Ps. 128:2.

Somehow, I think He delights in really messing with me. Lets me know without question that He Is God.

Filed under: True God Stories