“Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty! Early in the morning our song shall rise to Thee.”
The Gettys sing and the notes ring out. Sweet unto the Lord. Like great bowls of incense, the fragrance of their praise rises to the heavens. Rick is there this week with hundreds of other pastors and Christian leaders. No two alike, they come from different walks of life with churches in different contexts. Inner City, suburban, rural, large, small, North, South, trendy, traditional. They have different gifts, abilities, and passions. They are regular guys. With hang-ups and messy lives. But one thing draws them. One person. Jesus Christ. And His beautiful gospel. And for a moment, Chicago is transformed into a holy place.
“Holy, holy, holy! All the saints adore Thee, casting down their golden crowns around the glassy sea.”
I’ve been livestreaming most of the conference. Me here in Ohio, texting him in Chicago when something strikes me. Me weeping in my kitchen when I hear all of those voices (mostly men in this case) lifting their strong voices to the One who is enthroned above the heavens.
You see, we’ve always been “in it” together. Ministering for 15 years on college campuses. Attending conferences together, sitting through seminary classes together, planning and praying for our students together. Dragging the kids into the thick of it with us. Madison to the sorority houses with me and Caleb to hang with the “fellas” with Rick.
But three years ago all of that changed. And we traded the college campus for the community. I can honestly say that we love it. Absolutely love it. It has far surpassed our expectations. I’ve never been a part of anything like Christ Community Chapel – Stow. Never.
But, every once in a while the “in it” together part is harder for me to figure out now. Just sometimes. Like this.
When he heads off to a conference, most of me cheers him on. So thankful for his time with our other pastors. Knowing he needs that time with other men who will encourage him and challenge him in ways that I cannot.
But, I must admit that one small part of me sort of wishes I was there too. Like old times.
“Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty! All Thy works shall praise Thy name, in earth and sky and sea.”
The livestream plays on… it’s the final stanza of this great old hymn. He is in Chicago – in a sea of godly men and women who are grappling with what it means to pass on the Truth in this generation. I am in Ohio – surrounded by laundry and the kids’ lego creations. I have ironing to do, another writing project to tackle, and two little people to shape. Two little people who will have to decide what they think about the Truth too.
And as I iron the crease in Rick’s olive pants, the words wash over me afresh. “ALL Thy works shall praise Thy name.” ALL of them, Shan.
Do I believe that? Do I believe that an ironing board in Ohio is as holy a place as a Gospel Coalition in Chicago?
“Holy, holy, holy! Lord God Almighty! All Thy works shall praise Thy name, in earth and sky and sea.”
Turns out, we are still “in it” together. Maybe it’s really not so hard to figure out after all. Just maybe.
And my voice joins theirs across the miles.
“ALL Thy works shall praise Thy name…”
But June 3, 1969, was significant for another reason. On the other side of the world, another event was taking place. A smaller, but no less profound, moment in time. It was a short ceremony between a man and a woman who were pledging to walk through life together from that moment until death. It probably took less than half-an-hour. There were very few witnesses – they waited to tell family and friends until after the ceremony. There was no wedding party. Not much pomp. She wore a simple, stylish white dress instead of a wedding gown. He a coat and tie instead of a tuxedo. She was a recent high school grad from a simple, country town. He a recently enlisted private in the US Army. Within a few short days they would load everything they owned into their corvette and drive across the country to Fort Carson in Colorado Springs, Colorado.
