BROTHER PAUL AND HOW GREAT THOU ART



Paul Biggs devoted most of his time away from work to be the unpaid music leader of our Baptist church in the small town where I grew up. He was the human resources manager at the plant, but his real love was singing.

I was born a skeptic, so my time as a child during church services was spent reading books when I could get away with it. I haven't changed all that much. There's no cure for skepticism. I sometimes take a longer and more difficult route to reach the same destination as everyone else. My friends and family usually wait for me.

When I was old enough, I eagerly joined the choir, not because I had a good voice but because Brother Paul was such an inspiration. One of the downsides of being in the choir was that we were behind the pulpit and faced the audience. I had to behave and resist the urge to talk, but learning to not do whatever I pleased was good practice for the grown-up world of work. I still struggle.

Brother Paul has been gone from this world for many years, but the impression he made on me lingers. When I see a beautiful sunrise or sunset, I can still feel God's presence and hear Brother Paul's voice singing "How Great Thy Art."  When he sang, you felt a bucket-load of emotion in his booming baritone voice. Most often, he had tears in his eyes as he sang. His tears were contagious, as everyone in the church pews wept when he finished.

As I grow older, my heart is warming to the possibilities of whatever lies ahead. I'm reminded of a quote from the poignant movie, Same Kind of Different as Me (on Netflix), "The truth is whether we're rich or poor or something in between, this earth ain't no final resting place. So in a way, we is all homeless--just working our way toward home."

When I reach the great beyond, I hope Brother Paul's voice welcomes me.

"O Lord, my God, when I in awesome wonder
Consider all the worlds Thy Hands have made
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder
Thy power throughout the universe displayed
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee
How great Thou art, how great Thou art
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee
How great Thou art, how great Thou art."

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

DR MCELROY AND TEXAS A&M

Image
  I’ve lived my life with integrity, compassion, and honesty.  I don’t back down from a controversial subject and will always speak out against injustice and prejudice.  I received many benefits from being White, although I was still short-shafted regarding equal pay as a woman.   Case in point: I was replaced by two men when I retired from overseeing a 36-bed rehabilitation hospital and 6 outpatient clinics serving children through adults. The man who replaced me had great difficulty managing the inpatient rehabilitation services. Hence, the Healthcare System overseeing the services promoted a male physical therapist to manage the outpatient facilities.  Each of the men was paid more than I.  It’s probably not a stretch to guess that had I been a person of color with the same credentials, I would not have been hired, and doubly so if I had been a woman of color with the same credentials.   A tenured UT journalism professor was recently recruited to Texas A&M to kick-start their jo
Read more

MY LIFE WITH TERI FLANAGAN

Image
  (Teri authored a story about me entitled "My Life with Dana Rushing" in the local newspaper after I moved from Horseshoe Bay to Austin. It was a total surprise and touched me beyond words. She is now in hospice at a facility in Marble Falls. Teri's husband has given me permission to publish this story. It will be in The Beacon this week.) I’m incredibly fortunate to have a friend I could call to assist me with the various projects I began or coordinated while living in Horseshoe Bay for five years. Other friends also answered my call to action, but Teri was always the first one I contacted because I was confident she would agree to help. Teri once said when she saw my name on her caller ID, she knew I wasn’t calling to chat and that she was being recruited for another project. Still, Teri answered my call. Teri is a talented artist and an avid reader. Her beautiful painting of a colorful donkey hangs in my home. A burnt orange wooden walking stick David made helps k
Read more

ROSA PARKS AND THE DREAM

Image
I dreamed of Rosa Parks last night.  She was sitting in a seat in the middle of a bus with Black men sitting on both sides of her.  I figured they were bodyguards and had joined her after news got out that this 'uppity Black woman' had dared to take her place amongst the Whites. The days of sitting in the back of the bus were over for her.  She worked long, hard days at low wages for a white family and had to take a bus every...damn...day.  Her great-grandparents had been slaves.  Enough was enough.   She felt she earned something more than a seat at the back of the bus.   She didn't know that this small act would set up a firestorm of millions of people being emboldened by her.  More and more people began speaking out, demonstrating, and even rioting to bring civil rights to the forefront.  The battle continued until, at last, civil rights passed.  Racism became somewhat more subtle over 50 years. But the Rosa Parks I saw in my dreams is still in that seat.
Read more