Memories of Sundays Past

During church tonight my four-year-old grandson sat next to me. He wiggled and fidgeted, slid off and on the seat, made faces, giggled, sighed, and pouted. After many warnings, to no avail, I sternly told him to sit up straight and to fly right. It's a Southern thing.

He got awfully still. I looked down and saw that he had fallen asleep leaning against my shoulder. He had made it almost all the way through. Staying seated during the last hymn so I wouldn't wake him up, a memory flitted through and around our singing of The Church's One Foundation. It was of me pretending to be asleep while leaning against my daddy's arm. I loved the way his body vibrated as he sang; lulling me further into a semi-conscious state. I remember being scared to move; afraid that if I moved so would he. I wanted that moment to last forever.

I thank God for parents who took me to church and taught me right from wrong. That godly heritage is priceless. I treasure it more every year. I hope too that our children and grandchildren realize sooner rather than later what a blessing it is to have Christian parents and a loving church community surrounding them.

Right now, all they're interesting in is how long the service will last or if they get chewing gum afterwards. But someday....they'll have precious memories that I'll be a part of just like my Daddy is part of mine. And my Mama, my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.

And that reminds me of that old song Precious Memories. Some of you may not know it, so I'll sing you a verse or two.

Precious mem'ries, unseen angels,

Sent from somewhere to my soul,

How they linger, ever near me,

And the sacred past unfold.

Precious father, loving mother,

Fly across the lonely years,

And old home scenes of my childhood,

In fond memory appear.

As I travel on life's pathway,

Know not what the years may hold,

As I ponder, hope grows fonder,

Precious mem'ries flood my soul.

Chorus

Precious mem'ries, how they linger,

How they ever flood my soul,

In the stillness of the midnight,

Precious, sacred scenes unfold.