Reflections: Sing, wherever you are

Often, circumstances or memories combine with my daily devotions or something from a sermon or online teaching to send me down some real trails of “reflecting,” that end up in my journal or on my computer. With plenty of time indoors last week, such happened more than once. 

While looking for a piece of piano music I wanted to revisit, I found several songbooks I brought home when I sold my parents’ house. Shortly thereafter, I saw a retro-themed meme about women regularly putting their hair into curlers to achieve a puffy hairstyle held by lots of hairspray. That style required either visiting the beauty shop or owning a home hairdryer. 

My mom opted for the hairdryer. Although busy with a part-time job, a large garden, and volunteering at church, a couple of times weekly she washed her hair, put it into curlers, and hauled out the hairdryer. This gave her 30 to 40 minutes of downtime, insulated by the hairdryer noise from all but the direst emergencies. So, decades before cell phones or social media for entertainment, she turned to a songbook. 

My mom loved to sing, and did so while doing housework or during any car ride lasting more than a few minutes. She took seriously Scripture references like Ephesians 5:19, “. . . Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord,” or Psalm 40:3, “He has put a song in my mouth, a hymn of praise to our God,” and many others (NIV). 

During the 1960s, gospel quartets and other singing groups introduced many “new songs” to a generation raised on classic church hymns of the church and old-time Albert Brumley favorites. Since it was difficult and expensive to incorporate new music into hardback hymnals, Nashville’s Benson Publishing Company added an inexpensive paperback line, “New Songs of Inspiration,” regularly adding a new volume to incorporate new popular songs. Those were a gold mine for my mom, who bought each new volume, and grabbed one whenever she plugged in the hairdryer. 

It was hard to hide my embarrassment if a friend happened by when my mom was blissfully singing under the hairdryer, loud enough to hear herself over the sound of the machine. But years later, I’ve learned to appreciate my mom’s heart for singing praise to the Lord no matter what. During her hairdryer session before heading for a friend’s funeral, she sang. When she received word that her sister’s cancer had taken a turn for the worse and she must come at once, she sang. Before a looming medical test of her own, she sang. 

Several of those books landed at my house, bringing memories with them. As the publisher explains in the foreword, “There are old favorites that must be included . . . and there must be a great number of new songs . . . ,” and I try to follow that philosophy today. I love to worship through song, be it hymns at a traditional church, old-time gospel at a jam session, or the newest praise music at my sons’ church. 

God gives us a pattern in nature, too. During last week’s snow and bitter cold, the birds coming to check my feeder sang the same sweet songs as always. My life right now includes good days and stressful ones, great news and sad news; but those birds and my mom’s songbook are a reminder that no matter what, God is with me, and that’s worth singing about.