The Hymn Book

Though my luggage didn't feel like it, I really was careful in limiting how many books I brought to Italy. My poor bookshelf looks very sparse. And when I run my fingers over the books I keep thinking, "Why did I bring that one?" and "Why didn't I bring..." and "How in the world did I happen to bring two copies of that?" One of the things I didn't bring was a hymn book. Last weekend I visited co-workers in Ancona and drooled over their full bookshelves. But my eyes got caught on the gray hymnal, and exact version of the one I've had since college. And with timidity I asked, "Um, could I borrow your hymn book until Christmas?" Heidi asked me, "What do you want with it?" Well, I want to sit at my piano and play through it. Instead of the gray hymn book, she pulled out the thick binder - the version of the hymnbook with cords and notes and big print - spiral bound to sit easily on the piano.
I couldn't wait to get it home.
And so I've started. The next day I stayed home from church to have my own private worship service - a sweet time of specific prayers over a heavy burden. And I started with number one and played through the first 300 hymns.
And I was reminded of a few things.
I saw, with tear filled eyes, the precious words of petition and confession and longing of how faithful our God is, how powerful He is, how With Us He is...
And as I really thought about these words the burden I carried was passed into His hands.
I really love to sing and dance with abandon to the worship songs that have been written in the last five years.
But every-once-in-a-while, it's good to go back to sing the songs of the 500 years.

"For why? The Lord our God is good; His mercy is forever sure. His truth at all times firmly stood, and shall from age to age endure." written in 1565