Overheard in the row in front of me this morning as the opening chords of "How Great Thou Art" started.
Is there anyone who can make it through that hymn dry-eyed?
I lasted until the last verse this time. Other Sundays, not so much.
I stood there thinking of the single mom sitting nearby who's raising a fantastic son.
Of the mom a few rows over hurting over her prodigal son.
Of the would-be moms grieving miscarriages and empty wombs.
Of the seemingly endless list of cancer patients on the prayer sheet.
Of the miracles of God's Providence in Honduras this summer.
Of a teenager living with relatives this summer, previously unchurched, and now born again, part of a new family.
"Then sings my soul, my Savior God to Thee, how great Thou art..."
Carl Gustaf Boberg, who wrote the poem that would become the lyrics, witnessed a thunderstorm come up suddenly and then watched the bay began to calm and heard a church bell in the distance as the storm passed over. The peace after the storm inspired his "awesome wonder." The disciples were in "awesome wonder" as they witnessed the One who has power over even the wind and waves.
And still does.
Watch a thunderstorm and let your soul sing, "How great Thou art."