A PRELUDE TO GLORY
An author tells the story of her mother's battle with lung cancer, and how the doctors fought to save her life. "When they came to drain the fluid off of her lungs," this daughter wrote, "I would hold mom's hands and look into her eyes with my own. She was in agony. There may be a treatment that is more painful, but I doubt it." She said her mother tried to smile through the pain, but kept asking, "Is it over? Are they almost through?" As the doctors shook their heads, she would reassure: "Almost, Mom. Just a little bit more."
Then her mother's face brightened. "Joyce," she asked her daughter, "honey, would you sing for me?" Without looking up the daughter could see the doctor's gaze. She was about to tell her mother she had no voice at all when the doctor interrupted and said, "Mrs. Miller, Joyce has been here seven days a week around the clock. She's tired. She probably can't sing. Don't ask her to." At that, the mother's patience snapped and she fixed her eyes on the doctor. "Listen, sonny. If you paid for as many voice lessons as I have, you'd know that when I say ‘sing,' my daughter sings."
And there beside her mother's bed, she sang the song her mother requested: The Sound of Music. She sang the whole thing while her mom clasped her hand. Near the end of the song, her mother turned her face to the window, straining to feel the sunlight. And she sang the last four lines with her daughter: "I go to the hills when my heart is lonely. I know I will hear what I've heard before. My heart will be blessed with the sound of music. And I will sing once more." This dying woman didn't need the assurance of a hymn or gospel song. No wonder she wanted The Sound of Music. She wanted a song that would be a prelude to her homecoming…an earthly overture for the great heavenly concert that was about to begin for her.
But in all things we overwhelmingly conquer through him who loved us.
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