My dad was almost certainly tone deaf. I mean, literally. He could not carry a tune at all, and I really don’t think he realized it. In other words, he could not hear the variations in pitch that other people could hear.

I am guessing at that, because I could never ask him directly. Sitting next to him in church at an early age, I noticed that what came out of his mouth had absolutely no resemblance to what came from everyone else. I developed some musical ability early, and could “hear” natural major, minor, minor seventh, etc., chords and relationships, so Dad’s atonality grated on me.

But one day in the car as I rode in the back seat on the way home from church, I said something to Dad about how he couldn’t carry a tune. He said, “What?” and looked puzzled. Mom shot me that look that could scorch paint off the side of a barn, and I quickly shut up and never mentioned it again.

In retrospect, I see the kindness of my mother at that moment. I knew Dad couldn’t carry a tune. She knew it. Everyone for six pews around us knew it. But I don’t think Dad knew it. All he knew was how much he enjoyed music. He would listen to old 45s and 78s on the home stereo for hours—Patsy Cline, Dean Martin, Conway Twitty. I don’t know what his experience was like, but I know he loved music. And he loved singing in church.

The Psalmist said, “Sing to the Lord a new song! Sing to the Lord, all the earth! Sing to the Lord! Bless his name! Share the news of his saving work every single day! Declare God’s glory among the nations; declare his wondrous works among all people because the Lord is great and so worthy of praise.” He didn’t say to sing so that others would admire you.

Dad wasn’t singing for me or for the surrounding people. With all his gusto, he sang to the Lord. Had I managed to, in my arrogance, communicate to Dad how he sounded to others, he may have lapsed into silence. It would have robbed him of something precious. It would have robbed the people around him as well. They may not have enjoyed his dissonance, but I know how much people looked up to him. I am certain that his joyful noise uplifted hearts—his own, and those around us.

Dear Lord, thank you for the wisdom you shared through my mother to keep my mouth shut and my dad’s voice open. Grant to us unselfconscious, joyful participation together in singing to you! Amen.

This devotional was written and recorded by Donn King.

Grace for All is a daily devotional podcast produced by the members of the congregation of First United Methodist Church in Maryville, Tennessee. With these devotionals, we want to remind listeners on a daily basis of the love and grace that God extends to all human beings, no matter their location, status, or condition in life.

If you would like to respond to these devotionals in any way, we would enjoy hearing from you. Our email address is: podcasts@1stchurch.org.

First United Methodist Church is a lively, spirit-filled congregation whose goal is to spread the message of love and grace into our community and throughout the world. We are located on the web at https://1stchurch.org/.

I have always enjoyed music. When I was a teen, my mom joked that I knew the lyrics to every song on the radio. There’s just something about music that speaks to me.

A few bars of “Celebration” by Kool & the Gang, and I’m back in Linda Lee’s den dancing with my friends. When I hear Keith Whitley’s “When You Say Nothing at All,” I’m in a dorm at Andy Holt with my roommate learning how to two-step. And “This I Promise You,” by Ronan Keating, will always remind me of one of the happiest days of my life—when I married my husband, Don.

Music seems to be persistently intertwined with memory and emotion. For me, that’s even more true of religious music.

My maternal grandfather wanted Handel’s “Messiah” played as his casket was rolled to the hearse after his service. It brought a smile to my face as we left the service.

The hymn, “It is Well with My Soul,” was sung by two of my friends at my maternal grandmother’s and my mother’s funerals. The words seem to relate to the deceased as well as those who mourn their loss.

I could continue and make quite the playlist, but I want to circle back to this verse from Ephesians. When I read it, the phrase “make music from the heart” immediately reminded me of one of my favorite Christmas songs, with that phrase. “The Work of Christmas” is based on a poem by Howard Thurman, and the beautiful words are a good reminder for us throughout the year, so I’ll share them now.

I encourage you to listen to the choral arrangement at the link provided in the notes.

Speaking with music from the heart can provide comfort, inspiration, lament, or praise. I hope the words of this song inspire you to continue the work of Christmas throughout the year as you seek to minister to the lost, the broken, and the hungry.

Thank you God for the gift of music from the heart that speaks to us and sometimes for us. Thank you for musicians and lyricists with the talent to comfort, inspire, lament, and praise through music that enriches our worship and inspires us to fulfill our Christian mission on earth. In Jesus’s name, Amen.

This devotional was written by Kathryn King and read by Amy Large.

“The Work of Christmas,” arranged by Dan Forrest:

Welcome to the Grace for All daily devotional podcast, produced by the people of First United Methodist Church in Maryville Tennessee. We are glad to have you with us. Today we are starting a new series of episodes we are calling “Songs of the Spirit.” Throughout the month of May, we will be highlighting stories from our personal lives, from scriptures, and from historical records that show the importance of music and song In our Journey of faith. We Methodists love music and hymns, and we love to sing and make music. We hope these episodes will demonstrate that love and also the love that we feel toward all who listen.

In July of 1725, a young man named John was born in London, England. His mother brought him up in the Christian faith, but she died when he was seven years old. By the age of 11, John was regularly accompanying his father, a merchant ship captain at sea.

He was pressed into service in the Royal Navy at age 18 where he quickly became a problem. After attempting to desert his post, he was placed on a passing slave ship and ended up a slave himself in west Africa. He escaped and became a mate on a slave ship, and eventually became a master navigator.

The faith John's mother instilled in him had long since waned, but on one fateful voyage it came back to him as he was steering a near-foundering ship through a fierce storm. Although he continued his career in the slave trade after his conversion, his emerging faith combined with failing health compelled him to end his career at sea.

He became an Anglican clergyman and served a congregation for over forty years. He also became an outspoken abolitionist and was a force behind the eventual abolition of slavery in England.

Later, John began to write the story of his life. Along with the poet William Cowper, he began to write hymns. For his New Year's Day sermon in 1773, John Newton wrote a song as a complement to the message:

Perhaps remembering his conversion while at sea, he wrote:

God did marvelous things in John Newton's life. God's grace rescued him and worked salvation for him. My entire hope for the future, as well as my source of peace, is that amazing grace that God grants - the Grace that put Jesus Christ on the cross for all of us.

It is because of that Grace that we can all confidently sing the last verse:

Father, thank you for your grace. Thank you for loving us enough to provide the grace that works salvation for all those who receive it. Amen

This devotion was written and read by Cliff McCartney.

Grace for All is a daily devotional podcast produced by the members of the congregation of First United Methodist Church in Maryville, Tennessee. With these devotionals, we want to remind listeners on a daily basis of the love and grace that God extends to all human beings, no...