A HEARING HEART
The old man came into the worship service shortly after it started. He sat at the end of my row, with two vacant seats between us. A noticeable hearing aid was in his ear, and he held the bulletin up to within inches of his thick glasses to try to read it. As the service progressed, I wondered why he had come. He probably couldn’t hear much, and he couldn’t see the hymnal well enough to sing the hymns. During the sermon, I tried to ignore his quiet, rhythmic breathing as he dozed. At the close of the service, the pastor suggested that we rise and hold hands with those next to us to symbolize the unity in Christ’s church, His people. We then sang the familiar “Alleluia,” I made no attempt to take the old man’s hand. He had not yet risen when we started to sing. With eyes closed I worshiped Jesus as we sang. Near the end…
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