Time for Wednesday Night Prayer Meeting, but first a reminder that the Countdown to Kianna is at day 25. I’ll have a word for my first granddaughter in a few minutes. For now, it’s time to revisit one of the antiques in my storehouse of memories: Wednesday Night Prayer Meeting.
I’ve mentioned previously that I developed somewhat of a fondness for Sunday night and Wednesday night church services — or at least I have fond memories. Those services were typically less structured, less rigid and not as formal as the Sunday morning service. We had printed bulletins on Sunday morning that listed which hymns to sing, who was “bringing the special,” and who was preaching, reading scripture and things like that.
But often on Sunday night and always on Wednesday night, the hymns weren’t pre-selected and listed. The music leader would ask for requests. The older folks naturally requested older hymns and, on the off-chance that the pianist wasn’t familiar with the song, we’d sing it a capella, assuming that at least one or two folks knew it well enough to get it started. Remarkably, those non-instrument numbers were typically on-key.
I think that’s where I learned to love dozens of old hymns. By the time I reached my mid-teens, I occasionally had the opportunity to lead the singing on a Sunday or Wednesday night. I preferred an a capella approach and was even known to break one of the oldest, unwritten rules of Baptistdom: Sing the first, second and last verse of the hymn. I’d say, “All four (or five) verses.”
I was a rebel even then. All four verses; no piano.
So we’ll wrap up Wednesday Night Prayer Meeting with a hymn — a capella, of course — and a more modern tune.
Sweet Hour of Prayer
The Potter’s Hand (Darlene Zschech and Hillsong. The audio and video are barely out of synch; be sure to turn up the volume. Enjoy.)
Grandpa’s message to Kianna, #12 …
You’ve got a rich musical heritage. Your mommy can sing beautifully, even though she won’t admit it. I can’t wait to hear your voice. Everyone in my family and on my side of the family plays one or more instruments. It’s been a while since we’ve had some brass.
In case you’re wondering, Grandpa really likes the sound of a French horn. But we also need a percussionist. How about a drum set?
I’m sure your daddy will let you set it up in his man cave. Right, Darnell?