A Part in the Chorus

A PART IN THE CHORUS

I have no song, Lord
You gave me no melody
My ears are like tin
And my voice a throaty rasp
I cannot hear the angels
As they sing your praise
Or lift my voice to heaven
In a song sweet to your ear
Instead You gave me words
With a love for their use
And a life full of pain
So I could know your joy

When we are all gathered together on the other side, singing praises to God, I’ll try to stand apart from you so I don’t throw you off key. That is what my friends ask me to do now whenever we gather for that purpose, and I try to oblige. Sometimes, I just mouth the words and trust that God will understand. My high school music teacher was honest enough to say, “you really can’t sing, can you?” And compassionate enough to give me a passing grade anyway. Never one to give up easily, I thought that if I couldn’t sing I would find some other way to create music, but whenever I practiced my instrument, my dear dog howled and I didn’t want to cause him pain. My sense of rhythm isn’t any better. Remember the Steve Martin character who couldn’t keep a beat? He learned that from me.
It really bothers me when I read over and over in scripture that we are to sing praises to God, so I cling to the verse that just says to make a joyful noise. I know how to do that. For a long time I tried to figure out where I fit into the chorus of praise to God. When a song of worship would move me to tears, I would long for that gift. When I saw works of beauty created by others, I would wish to do the same. The superstar stories of faith always made me squirm because my own life seemed so unremarkable. I have spent most of my life in a struggle to just stay afloat. I have no successful career, no wealth, no fame, no outstanding talents or gifts. I’m just one more anonymous grain of sand on the shore. Like most people, my life here on earth will barely cause a ripple and then I’ll be gone.
So why does God care if I join the chorus? Because he knows that praising Him is what gives meaning to my existence. That was why he created me. Not for His selfish desire to have one more average person acknowledge His greatness, but because he knew it would bring me joy. When I can know and share even a small part of His glory, I am filled with a sense of purpose that far outlasts any human accomplishment.
Dandelions are a part of that chorus, too. God wanted to be sure there was an easy way for little boys to express love to their mothers, so He spread them far and wide. My five sons have all brought me those small tokens of affection, and their joy in giving has been as great as mine in receiving. Their small pudgy hands have crushed the stems in eagerness to deliver their precious gift, and their faces have reflected the joy of expressing love.
My talents may be no greater than a common weed, but it brings me joy to give them to my Heavenly Father. Maybe the only way I contribute to that chorus is by knowing that I survive by God’s grace alone. I won’t claim to boast about my weaknesses as Paul did, but at least I know that I have a place in His chorus, tin ears and all.