When I was young, I went to Camp Blue Haven for two weeks out of every summer. Even with the beauty radiating from mountains and the peaceful creek nearby, my favorite memories of camp involve the singing. We sat around, no microphones, and sang with the voices God gave us. The music was so gorgeous, harmonious, that it moved me to chill bumps.
Even now, as an adult, I love to watch Glee for its harmonies. My family will break into song at any moment, because we simply enjoy it. We all sing on the praise team, it is how we worship. We sing in harmony, blending so that the notes compliment each other.
This Sunday I sat by my mom, singing along with the congregation. A family came in late and sat right behind us. I didn't recognize them, but they made their presence known. They sang very loudly, baring the words of songs with no fear. They sang out of key, off pitch and did so in a bold way that made it hard to hear the correct notes in my head.
Tempted to become annoyed by their "intrusion" into my worship, I stopped and listened to their fearless song. They didn't know all the words, but read them off the screen and did their hardest to sing every one.
After "In Christ Alone", I heard one say, "I liked that song."
Their bold, tone-deaf singing showed me true worship, coming from the heart and not that of musical talent. I was humbled into remembering why I was at church, and why I sang the songs that I did.
And then, I started singing again, I picked up the melody and sang right along side my fellow Christians. We were singing in perfect harmony, not the kind musicians would applaud, but the kind our Lord and Savior most definitely would.
Bleak But Beautiful by The Pioneer Woman
8 hours ago