Steve sang in our church choir. I would sit in a middle-of-the-sanctuary pew (connecting chairs, actually) with Cooper and Katie, and Steve would sit in the choir loft. Sometime during the prelude, Katie would spy her Daddy in the choir loft, wildly wave her hands and speak loudly and clearly "Hi, Daddy!"
Our congregation is a friendly and forgiving group. No one seemed to mind the interruption.
In fall 2007, Steve's voice began to subtly change. We didn't know why at the time. By December we knew about the mass in his brain stem, and he reluctantly stepped down from choir.
I immediately missed that special interaction between Steve and Katie. I still do.
Last night I attended a small church meeting. We have a new senior minister, and different families are hosting get-acquainted meetings in their homes so that Pastor Rusty can meet and listen to church members.
We were discussing the importance of young families in the church when Pat, a more senior member of the congregation, spoke up.
"When Tyra's daughter was much younger, and her husband was in the choir, her daughter would see her Daddy in choir and say, 'Hi, Daddy!' I always loved that."
This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.
(Psalm 118:24)
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