This post is written by Leslie Hudson and is published as a companion to Unit 18, Session 3 of The Gospel Project for Adults Vol. 6 (Winter 2022-23): From Captivity to Restoration.
I grew up in one of the most blessed environments—my parents made sure our entire family went to a healthy, Spirit-led, God-fearing church every single Sunday. Because of that, worship, both inside and outside the church, marked my young life. It didn’t hurt that both of my parents loved to sing and were devoted choir members. As they got their cassette tapes for the next choir musical, I learned the words and notes with them, singing along in the car. I remember Dad bringing home a copy of the sheet music for an upcoming choir special and practicing the tenor line in the bathroom as he shaved.
My parents were intentional about worship, and their excitement for leading worship was infectious. When I was in second grade, we were members of a very small congregation in Lexington, Kentucky. The pianist was also the de facto choir director simply because she was the most qualified, and choir practice was once a week at her house, with the ten or so choir members gathered around her piano. I remember hearing them sing parts, shout praise, and offer genuine, heartfelt worship in that intimate environment. That same energy poured out of them on Sunday mornings, filling a church that was too big for its small choir with powerful words carried on hearts full of genuine praise. I could sing along to “Majesty” and “Holy Ground.” I learned to love and sing the Gaither music and Sandi Patti and Via Dolorosa.
As soon as I was old enough, I joined youth choir, fully expecting to be used in a mighty way through intentional worship; God was faithful. The soundtracks of every Dennis and Nan Allen youth choir musical still come out of my heart and mouth even today, and we learned to not only sing in three parts (it was youth choir, after all) but to blend our voices and focus on the Lord. Our music minister didn’t stand in the front and conduct us; he stood with the boys and sang along beside us. We learned “Strange Way to Save the World” and Amy Grant and Michael W. Smith, blessed to watch how teenage worship changed our congregation.
You’re not surprised to hear that as a middle-aged woman, I’m now a member of our adult choir. I still wake up on some Sunday mornings, excited to know that the songs we’ve rehearsed and prayed over will minister to our body of believers. As I type these words, memories of singing “Days of Elijah” and “Old Church Choir” bring a smile to my face.
I think this walk down worship’s memory lane is what Nehemiah and Ezra did in their later years. As these godly men considered the waypoints of their lives, they looked back at the incredible worship service recorded in Nehemiah 8 and thought, “Yep; that was one of the best.” Perhaps they recalled the men, women, and even little children gathering to hear the Word. Maybe they recalled their shock when the people mourned over their sins or relived the excitement as the people rejoiced at the revelation of God’s plan.
It’s a blessing to look back at your life and see how worship shaped your church, your family, and your faith. As you study Nehemiah 8 this week, consider your own memories. Maybe you want to record them for your children, talk about them with your spouse, or walk down memory lane with old friends. Those old songs still live on the internet, and you can find videos of choirs still singing them. Sing along with them and let them take you back in time. Praise God for His faithfulness then and anticipate His faithfulness tomorrow. That’s what a lifetime of worship allows us to do.
Leslie Hudson loves her mornings of silence, coffee, and Jesus—not in that order. She lives with her husband and kids in White Bluff, Tennessee, where they raise blueberries, figs, and bees. She loves to spend her free time reading, writing, journaling, and helping others know and follow Jesus.
