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I was raised in a traditional, small-town church. The congregation sat in pews and our pastor stood behind a pulpit. The choir wore robes, and service was always over before noon. There were no raised hands during worship, mainly because we were singing hymns and accompanied by an organ.

Every once in a while, though, we got all crazy and sang a song that wasn’t in the hymnal. Well, it was in the hymnal, but it was photocopied and taped into the front cover.

Oh, how I loved those few non-hymnal songs! When we sang them, I didn’t do anything crazy like tap my foot, although I did dare to close my eyes. And I’ll never forget the feeling that would sweep over me as we sang one in particular.

Here I am, Lord. Is it I, Lord?
I have heard you calling in the night.
I will go, Lord, if you lead me.
I will hold your people in my heart.

Each time we sang that song, I belted it out, meaning every word. Standing there, in my small church in my small town, I vowed to go wherever God would send me.

To read the rest of my post, please visit me at (in)courage.

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