The Beaverkill Community Church (formerly the Beaverkill Methodist Church) holds services regularly during the summer from Memorial Day to Labor Day. A week ago, my granddaughters Willa and Julia attended for the first time at a Children’s Service. While there, they learned (or more accurately, their mother learned) that the following Sunday, both the regular piano player and the substitute would be unavailable. Did anyone know someone who might be able to cover the following Sunday? Elizabeth suggested me. Mind you, I have not touched a keyboard in years; years that have been less kind to my touch with the development of Parkinson’s. Folks at the church welcomed anyone who could plunk a few notes, maybe play the melody line, strike a chord for acapella renditions.
Encouraged by Elizabeth, I agreed to give it a try, all the while wondering whether coming out of musical retirement with the addition of an infirmity was a wise idea. By midweek, I was in possession of a Methodist hymnal with the SIX selections for the upcoming week’s service duly noted. First on the docket was Number 127, “Guide Me, O Thou Great Jehovah.” If you’re curious, you can find it here: https://hymnary.org/hymn/UMH/127#:~:text=1.,will%20ever%20give%20to%20thee.
Notes at the bottom of the hymn told me the words were written by William Williams in 1745. A sign from above?
Practice didn’t make perfect, far from it. Like a third-string quarterback hoping to hold things together, I got through the game. True, no cornerbacks were blitzing
the keyboard. Just geriatric hands working hard not to fumble. The pastor, music director, choir, and congregation were generous, fine examples of Christian charity all. Did Jehovah guide me? I’ll settle for thinking the day ended on a high note. Hugs from granddaughters will do that for a fellow.
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