—And this gospel of the kingdom will be preached in the whole world as a testimony to all nations, and then the end will come.
I often think about Matthew 24:14. Not in a bible verse memorization sort of way, but in the gravity of the task given to preach the gospel to the whole world. If you think about it, the job seems completely overwhelming, but the reality is that nothing is impossible with God.
I struggle with memorizing verses. Always have. Usually when I am quoting a verse, it goes something like, “you know the verse where it says ‘Love is patient, love is kind,’ and it goes on and on about the characteristics of love?”
But yet, when I see or hear a bible verse or story that is part of a song I was taught when I was young, I can sing the entire song— every word with every (seemingly) correct pitch and rhythm. Ask me about the story of Zacchaeus. I will do my best not to sing the preschool tune I learned in Vacation Bible School, but it will probably be the lyrics almost verbatim. “You see… well, Zaccchaeus was a wee little man, and uh… yeah, a wee little man was he…”
The truth is that I learned the gospel and how to walk with God in the same way that a lot of kids learn it growing up in the church. I learned it through music.
For me, it started on a large outdoor carpet square that was duct taped to the linoleum floor in the children’s choir room at our church. I sat there on the edge of the carpet with about 30 other preschoolers where Mrs. Coughin (how it sounded, not how it was spelled) sat high above us on the piano bench emphasizing every note and chord on the piano with a dramatic rise and fall of her arms and the rocking back and forth of her polyester pants on the piano bench. She played and replayed the measures over and over while we sang them with her. Her arms never seemed to tire as she pumped them up and down emphatically rolling her fingers upside down across the keys at the very top of the keyboard for the notes that she couldn’t quite reach with her short arms. Her talent was mesmerizing to me, even then. She could play anything. And she was always smiling, animated, joyful, and full of praise. She planted the words and her joy of praising God through music in me at a very young age, and I can’t wait to hug her in heaven one day and thank her for that.
When I was in middle school, we changed churches and the choir director there was trying his best to pull new kids into the choir. Like a lot of kids during that time, I would ride home on the bus and stare at the TV until my mom or dad got home. Our choir director figured out that this was the case for many of us I guess, so he started picking us up from school. He took us to the Dairy Queen for a snack then we would go to the church for choir practice. Afterwards, all of us would hang out until one of our parents came and picked us up at the church. Pretty soon, he decided that we probably needed a handbell choir too, so he picked us up on Wednesdays as well and then afterwards we would eat supper at the church. After a while, it seemed like at least three times or more a week we would see the blue church van pull up at our school and we would just pile on and hang out in the choir room at church. Soon I was at the church more than I was at my house. When we all went to high school, the school was walking distance to the church, so we just walked over instead of getting picked up. Pretty much every memory I have of this group of friends from 6th-12th grade was either in the church parking lot, the choir room, the sanctuary practicing, or riding in the blue van.
Through his efforts, our choir director built the choir to a large number. But more than that, whether knowingly or not, he pressed in us the need for fellowship and friendship, the gift of music, and the words of God’s truth. All of these things together armed us in the battles that we have all faced as we continued to walk through the rest of our lives. Personally, I don’t know how I could have survived without these blessings that were given to me at such a young age. Those friends I made then have been there for me throughout my life to remind me of the love that grounds me through life’s trials. And the music has been the foundation that I pull from when life hurts so bad that all I can do is moan the words of God’s truth in a melody to heal my heart. That is why I joined the choir again a little over two years ago. I needed to return to the cornerstone that my faith was built on, and I am so honored and grateful that they welcomed me in.
Whether on a duct-taped outdoor carpet in a makeshift choir room or a sanctuary with a full orchestra and sound system, the choir ministers I have been graced to learn from put praising Jesus at the forefront. And because of that, individuals through all walks of life grow up in their faith learning how to lean on each other and walk with God in their hearts. Recently, one of my friends from youth choir reached out to me wanting to join the choir that I sing in now. I can’t tell you the blessing it was this Easter to worship God with a friend who I learned how to sing with so many years ago.
I praise and thank God for the amazing choir directors who have answered the call to teach children and adults how to walk with God in their hearts. It is a gift that will never leave those they minister to, with a truth that can deliver us all.
Proof that I didn’t always insist on blending into the background. Drew is in white standing behind me (I am not sure why), but also in the picture above in white.
Me and Drew in the Mount Paran Choir room— Holy Week 2025.