At the YMCA there’s a gym and a pool and some rooms like a hotel to stay. But there’s also a hall in which hang photographs that recall VIPs of the day.
It’s a hall where the values of Christ are enshrined along with a few worthy men who served like their Savior (with others in mind) while giving allegiance to Him.
It’s a hall that includes those who stand up for peace while making (of strangers) new friends. It’s a hall where the flame of the Y is maintained and where fame’s but a means to an end.
It’s a hall where my friend Michael Bussey resides with his humble heart grateful and full. By the glint in his eye and the look on his face I can tell it is well with his soul.
They call us to come home and sing because they know the King of Kings is coming for His family. Oh, what a happy day!
Yes, Heaven is the Gaithers’ theme where saints and angels live our dream of gathering around the throne and worshiping the Lamb.
There is something about that Name of One who didn’t die in vain, but conquered death redeeming grief. Because He lives, we sing!
A Homecoming’s both now and then to blend our voices once again creating something beautiful. So, let’s just praise the Lord!
* I wrote this poem especially for an All-Gaither Hymn Sing I was asked to lead at Cristwood Park, a faith-based senior adult community in suburban Seattle. I dedicate it to Bill and Gloria Gaither who have been a source of inspiration for millions (including me) over the past half century. During my dad’s battle with bone cancer, I would often sit with him and watch Gaither music videos holding his hand. Their heartfelt music was a source of inspiration.
I attended a Gaither Homecoming Gospel Sing with my mom a few months before my father died in 2008. The above photo was taken on that occasion at the Tacoma Dome where we were extended a backstage pass to join the Gaithers and their team for dinner prior to the concert. It was an experience I will never forget.
I retired from my dream job a few weeks ago. Because the past decade has been like a non-stop vacation, my favorite attire for going to work was an aloha shirt. Those ten trips around the sun have left me with precious memories in the photo album of my mind.
While cleaning out my office, I came across a miniature suitcase on a bookshelf. That tiny piece of luggage was scaled to the American Girl dolls my kids used to play with. It was covered with decals and stickers denoting various ports-of-call. I purchased it in a local thrift store as an object lesson for one of my sermons during the coronavirus outbreak. I glued another decal on the suitcase that simply said COVID-19. It was my less-than-subtle way of illustrating that the global pandemic had taken us on a cruise we’d not soon (if ever) forget.
Although memorable, COVID was a far cry from any tropical trip to the “land of aloha.” It resembled more of a non-stop nightmare than a dream vacation. It was like a cruise on the open sea fraught with rogue waves and gale-force winds. Still, that journey we traveled together provided us with a few ports-of-call worthy of remembering.
The first port-of-call was called sheltering-in-place. It was a place we’d not visited previously. We were forced to stay home and stay put. Initially, it felt like being imprisoned. But mandated lockdowns found us taking stock of the value of what we’d previously taken for granted. We realized how very precious our family members were to us. Having extended time with our spouse and children allowed us the means to focus on their hopes and fears and make note of how the pandemic was impacting them.
Staying at home also caused us to realize how much we enjoyed those with whom we work each day from whom we were temporarily separated. We also acknowledged how much we appreciated the freedom to come and go to our jobs and to the grocery store and to the mall. And even though working from home had its challenges, the flexibility proved meaningful.
Another port-of-call was called the mask mandate. Wearing a cloth or paper mask served as a badge of belonging. It was a means by which we were reminded we were in this fight together. The face mask was a visual aid calling to mind our common humanity. Each of us was affected by an invisible enemy. Each of us was vulnerable. And the mask served to remind us of our need to take precautions for our personal hygiene. Putting on a mask was a prompt to use hand sanitizer as well as to wash our hands (for the length of time it took to sing the Happy Birthday song or the Doxology).
Even though wearing a mask was a nuisance and although we grew weary of staying six feet apart from one another in a public setting, the imposed requirements kept us from becoming apathetic in the face of a virus that took an incalculable toll on people we loved. Masks encouraged us to be alert and take preventative measures for our well-being.
A third port-of-call was called virtual communication. We went ashore with laptops and smart phones in hand. We were tourists in a totally new territory “zooming” here and there and everywhere. We learned how to “do church” while sipping coffee at home in our recliners. We helped our children go to school while sitting at the kitchen table. We Facetimed with family members we couldn’t see because of travel restrictions. Microsoft Teams allowed us to both work and worship from home. Virtual meetings became the norm. We did book clubs and prayer groups and choir practice navigating those little squares on our computer screen. Participation from those around-the-world became a possibility unlike any previous time.
Yes, it’s true. The ports-of-call on cruise for which we didn’t sign up proved to be blessings in disguise. And looking back on that unforgettable journey we call COVID, I think we can honestly say we are grateful for having been there and are better off because of it.
When a person turns one hundred there’s a challenge to be sure. It’s called blowing out those candles on your cake. The cause of global warming is there right before your eyes. And the heat from all those flames is no mistake.
But the upside of this birthday is the chance to reminisce recalling all you’ve done these many years. You’re amazing. You’re a trophy of our God’s amazing grace. You have faced what life has dealt with joy and tears.
And this rest stop on life’s journey provides time to catch your breath as you bask in all the love that comes your way. There are cards and gifts and flowers, there are visits from dear friends who remind you that you’re Queen this special day.
In nature the Creator speaks. A gurgling brook or mountain creek are all He needs to bend my ear so I can hear His voice.
The windswept prairies boasting grain or northwest forests drenched in rain are means by which God whispers “I’m the source of all that lives!”
The seacoast with its deafening waves, the echoes of a pitch-black cave are sounds that point to One who spoke and said “Let there be life!”
On mountain summits cloaked with snow or in the desert sands below creation sings God’s majesty and bids me join the song… “Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of creation…”
*The above poem can be found in When God Speaks by Greg Asimakoupoulos.
Greg’s book, “When God Speaks“ is listed on the BOOKS menu at $14.99 from Lulu Books.