Pop and His Faith

Pop grew up on "that old time religion." Camp meetings and gospel music, lot's of shoutin' and praisin' God, good old fashioned music about the pearly gates, streets of gold and when "the roll is called up yonder." No dancin', no smokin' and no drinkin'. I remember when I was six years old my parents struggling with the idea of letting me go to the movies to see Bambie. Fortunately as the years rolled along he and my mom began to recognize that it was not so much about the do's and the don'ts as it was about what Jesus did for us on the cross. The crazy rules began to lighten up. But those old gospel choruses never diminished in significance in Pop's spiritual life having a huge impact on shaping him and his views about the Lord.

We have a small collection of Gaither CD's, a favorite Gospel group of his. Recently a dear friend back in California sent a CD of one of his favorite soloists from years ago at our church in Los Gatos, California. Vern had a lovely baritone voice and was a personal friend of Pop's making the music even more significant. When we put those CD's on the player they never cease to move him to a tear or two.

These days Pop stays home from church. We invite him but he doesn't care to go. The music has changed from the organ and piano to drums and base guitar. The place of worship is dimly lit like a theater and he can't see well to reach his seat. The style of worship has changed from the old days and he doesn't seem to fit in anymore. So on Sunday morning, and often through the week as well, we will dig out the CD's he loves so much and fill the house with his kind of music. He will sit with his eyes closed, chin resting in his folded hands and gently swaying his head back and forth as he enters into his own little church service, his own little place of worship. He'll turn to me and say, "Oh, that's beautiful." And I agree. It is beautiful.

Sometimes I find pop sitting in one of our overstuffed chairs praying in earnest. With his eyes tightly closed I can see his lips moving but can't quite decipher what he is saying. My kids have heard him praying for safety for us. I've seen him tapping his forehead and I am guessing he is praying for his slowing brain -- it appears his prayers are being answered because he is doing far better then expected more then 10 years into his dementia. I'm not sure if my father's prayers are full of faith or full of fear but I appreciate the fact that he still turns to our Lord petitioning on behalf of his family and himself. I know that God filters them through His grace. What a treasure this Christian heritage is that he has passed on to his family.