Haunted by Hymns

Often I feel that my life can be written through the great hymns of our fathers and forefathers - through times of joy, celebration, grief, sadness, trials, weakness, they have offered me great comfort since the days of my youth.


Not long ago, at a men's retreat, the leader called for a hymn very special to me - it was the one that was sung the day of my calling when I was 8 years old, and I do not recall hearing or singing it since.  When the chorus began my mind was flooded with memories of that day and the commitment so real in my heart, like as unto that very moment when I first surrendered all.  Tears flowed and I wept for a time, hardly able to sing the mighty words.  What blessing is more tender and comforting than the hymns of our childhood?


I am haunted by hymns.  They speak to me now more than they ever have, and I am grateful that so many are lodged in my mind and in my heart.


In 1847, three weeks prior to his death, sick and dying of tuberculosis, Henry F. Lyte penned the words of a prayer that are still today as meaningful as they were those many years ago.  It became arguably one of the greatest hymns of the church.  May his prayer bring peace and comfort to you as the evening tides:


Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
the darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide.
When other helpers fail and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day;
earth's joys grow dim; its glories pass away;
change and decay in all around I see;
O thou who changest not, abide with me.

I need thy presence every passing hour.
What but thy grace can foil the tempter's power?
Who, like thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

I fear no foe, with thee at hand to bless;
ills have no weight, and tears not bitterness.
Where is death's sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if thou abide with me.

Hold thou thy cross before my closing eyes;
shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;
in life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.

I need Thy presence every passing hour.
What but Thy grace can foil the tempter's power?
Who, like Thyself, my guide and stay can be?
Through cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me.

I fear no foe, with Thee at hand to bless;
Ills have no weight, and tears no bitterness.
Where is death's sting? Where, grave, thy victory?
I triumph still, if Thou abide with me.

Hold Thou Thy cross before my closing eyes;
Shine through the gloom and point me to the skies.
Heaven's morning breaks, and earth's vain shadows flee;
In life, in death, O Lord, abide with me.