When I was growing up, I remember my dad singing a song to me before bed: “Jesus, tender shepherd, hear me. Bless your little lambs tonight…” My grandma sang this lullaby to my dad when he was a child, and my great-grandpa sang it to her before that. And when my great-grandpa was dying, my grandma sang this song by his bedside. Singing this song has become a family tradition for us.

I grew up in a family that loved to sing, and I still find strength and comfort in singing favorite hymns and songs. I wonder if you do too. Sometimes we need to sing to express thoughts, feelings, and yearnings that spoken words cannot capture by themselves. For example, it’s one thing to say “Happy birthday!” and it’s another to gather a group of friends and family to sing “Happy birthday to you!” There are moments of celebration, grief, and more that call for singing.

My sense, however, is that fewer people are singing in their everyday lives than in previous generations – perhaps with the exception of singing alone in their car. My grandma on my mom’s side used to tell how her family entertained themselves with singing in a time before TV and smartphones. She grew up on a farm just outside of Black Earth, WI, and was the youngest of 9 kids. In the evenings, she and her brothers and sisters would sit on the hillside and sings songs to the family on the other side of valley. They would take turns singing songs back and forth until it was time to go inside. My sense is that this kind of thing doesn’t happen as much anymore. More and more singing is seen as something best left to the professionals.

We don’t all have to win American Idol in order to “make a joyful noise unto the Lord” (Psalm 100:1). Every voice is capable of praise. According to the Royal Conservatory in Toronto, about 1 in 4 adults say they cannot sing, but in truth less than 2 percent of the human population is physically incapable of singing. More often, people are capable but are too embarrassed or were once told by someone that they couldn’t. Furthermore, I would argue that the imperfect singing voice of a loving parent means more to a child than the perfect voice of a professional stranger.

This summer at Orfordville Lutheran we have been doing a sermon series on some of the congregation’s favorite hymns. In May, we began by having people write down songs and hymns that they liked and each week we’ve picked a hymn to give us a theme for our worship, Scripture readings, and sermon. As someone who loves to sing, this feels a little self-serving, because I have had so much fun looking into the stories and themes behind the songs that matter to people.

One song that I’ve turned to personally this summer is “My Life Flows On in Endless Song” written by Robert Lowry. The refrain goes “No storm can shake my inmost calm while to that Rock I’m clinging. Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth, how can I keep from singing?” This summer has been filled with tragedy and grief: Orlando, Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, police in Dallas and Baton Rouge, France, Turkey, and the list keeps growing. At times, it has been difficult to find hope and to keep an open heart. When my words and thoughts have fallen short, I have needed this song to call me back to faith in the Lord of heaven and earth.

I pray that God will give you a song to sing too.