Some of my earliest memories of my mom are of her singing hymns while doing housework. As far as I know she never played an instrument, but her melodic voice singing How Great Thou Art and Holy, Holy, Holy was always in the background of my early life.
Standing next to her in church as an eight-year-old, I was fascinated to hear her alto harmony while the congregation sang hymns. She wasn’t singing the notes the director was singing, but her part made everything sound better, fuller. I guess I absorbed that instinct, because I naturally gravitated to alto parts all through high school and college—whether singing in choirs or singing duets with my best friend Laurie.
One day when I was about four years old, my sister (whose given name was Melodie; she now goes by Lynn) and I were sitting at the kitchen table while Mom made lunch.
Mom had just finished singing, In My Heart There Rings a Melody. I wanted her to sing “my song” since Lynn (then Melodie) had one, and requested “the one about me”. After ten minutes of mom trying to figure out what I meant (You Are My Sunshine? If You’re Happy and You Know It?) I threw up my hands in exasperation and said, “You know! The one that goes, ‘Lori, Lori, Halle-loo-jah!’” I guess I assumed Battle Hymn of the Republic was all about me!
My mom left a legacy of God-honoring music. She died before any of my kids were born so never got to meet them, but all three have been effective worship leaders, and all have the “ear” and the ability to find a harmony part when hearing a tune.
When my daughters and I are singing together, we each find a different part to sing, and we will “fight” each other for our own musical territory—if one of us “steps on” another’s part she gets an elbow in the ribs.
I suppose this is one of many reasons we sit in the back row at church!
“O come, let us sing for joy to the Lord…” —Psalm 95:1