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When I was in the fifth grade, my dad – a gifted musician – decided I should learn to play his instrument of choice: the trombone. From Day One, this was a five-alarm dumpster fire. To begin with, playing the correct notes with this heavy brass instrument must be done by knowing exactly where to position the slide. This challenge was made exponentially more difficult by three other duh?! factors. First, I could not then, nor can I now, read music. Second, I have no sense of pitch. And third, I have almost no sense of rhythm. I have a feeling God cringed every time I attempted to practice. I know our neighbors and I did.

However, you should not assume from this confession that I do not enjoy music. I often feel hymns and faith-based songs are among the highest expressions of creativity that Christians are capable of. More times than I can count, I have come upon something in nature I feel blessed beyond measure to see or experience. In those moments – in the words of Isaac Watts – “ I  (would if I could)  Sing the Mighty Power of God.”

And, on these occasions, I sing from and in my heart. I think God appreciates this. I am sure those around me do.

I sing the mighty pow’r of God, that made the mountains rise,

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That spread the flowing seas abroad,

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And built the lofty skies.

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I sing the wisdom that ordained the sun to rule the day;

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The moon shines full at His command, and all the stars obey.

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There’s not a plant or flow’r below, but makes Thy glories known,

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Lord, how Thy wonders are displayed, where’er I turn my eye.

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