My brother and I sang a duet of Mosie Lister’s “All of Me.” It was our first time singing together. He was reticent at first. He is far more comfortable accompanying on the piano. The range of the song concerned me a little. Singing a high “D” is not as natural as it used to be. But, the song’s message drew us to it. It speaks of surrendering every facet of our lives to Him no matter our performance anxiety.
During our soundcheck, the worship director asked us to sing in the contemporary service as well as the traditional. It was a good thing because my parents missed the traditional performance by three minutes. As we sang in the contemporary service, I sensed a bridge over the generation gap.
With six years between us, my brother and I are essentially from different generations. He enjoys worship choruses and praise bands. I prefer choral hymns and organ music. But, songs like Lister’s pull at our heartstrings.
Memory perches me on the edge of the piano bench, singing as my maternal grandmother plays this song. Sometimes Grandpa strums guitar chords. Always he sits in an armchair, listening. He was the one who taught me to read music with his finger following the lines in the hymnal on Sunday mornings. My paternal grandparents transferred music into the gene pool as well; they met alongside a piano while my grandfather sang and my grandmother played. Now, my uncle, their oldest son, sings behind me in the choir, his daughter-in-law in front of me.
As my brother and I exited the worship center, we met our parents in the hall, their faces moist with tears. “Heaven is smiling,” said Mom. Of the compliments heard between services, this is the one I cherish most.