Things Are Different Now

The past few weeks have been quite stressful with my husband in the hospital twice and other family stresses. I really needed a vacation day. It seemed my own house would be the best place to take my little one day vacation, and so I did.
I began the day sitting in my overstuffed chair, feet up and Lily napping on my lap, my Bible open to the verses Ken had preached from on Sunday. I was happy to receive some new insights as I read, nothing really earth shaking, but good.
I decided some music would be good while I looked at e-mail and balanced my checkbook. (Not exactly a vacation thing to do.) At first I thought Christmas music would be nice. There was no one around to say it's too early for Christmas music. But, as I reached for a Christmas CD, the title on the spine of another CD caught my eye, "The Love Concert." Perfect! Nostalgia, inspiration, and fun all wrapped up in one little package. You see, this is a recording of the Rock Island First Church of the Nazarene youth choir, with my good friend, Fred Kelley, my sister, Ruth, and me singing about the love of God. The concert was the teen missionary project for 1972 to raise money for renovations at a home in California for retired missionaries.
First I heard Rev. Don Tyler welcoming the crowd. I remember it being a packed house. Then he called on my dad, Rev. Joe Hirst, to pray. I listened to my dad's voice as he talked to God, invoking His blessing on the evening's activities. He has been in heaven since 1976. It was so good to hear his voice! Then the music began.
The youth choir started the program with a good old Gaither tune. I thought about some of those young people who I loved dearly. They were in their early to middle teen years then. Now they are all in their late 40's or early 50's! Unbelievable!
I heard a young woman's voice saying something about God's love, then a piano introduction, and a clear, strong female voice began to sing, "If That Isn't Love." I recognized the voice immediately! It was me! And, may I just take the liberty of saying, it was beautiful.
Without warning, and with no self control, I began to sob. I didn't mean to, and I didn't want to, but I could not stop myself. It came from someplace so deep within me I had no idea that place even existed. "God!" I cried, "I can't do that any more! This disease I have is robbing me of my abilities to do some of those things I love to do! I hate this disease! Please let me do some of these things again!" Even now a lump comes in my throat and tears threaten to spill over as I remember yesterday. Many yesterdays! Yesterdays when Fred and I sang together before he and Phylis went home to be with the Lord. Yesterdays when Ruth's beautiful soprano voice wasn't affected by Lyme's Disease, nor was my voice experiencing the tightening of my throat muscles from Parkinson's medication.
Things are different now. I was 27 then. Now I'm 64. I didn't even know what Parkinson's Disease was then. Now I live with it daily. All my close friends were living and we were having wonderful Christian fellowship and ministry together. Now many of them are walking the streets of gold waiting for the arrival of those of us left behind. My investment in heaven is becoming greater as time goes by.
There is something to be said for looking back. However, Paul reminds us in Philippians 3:12-14, that we need to forget what is behind and press on toward the goal to win the prize God has waiting for us. We'll talk about that next time.