When we were members of the Methodist Church in central Texas, I did a lot of singing and a lot of playing the piano at church.
Our church was small, but the church in the nearby town was smaller. They couldn’t afford to hire a pastor.
Our pastor made a 30-minute drive every Sunday to that small church to conduct their service.
Then, he hurried back to our church for our service.
We had a pastor, then, that didn’t like having to preach twice every Sunday. He often grumbled about that small congregation.
Revival
The smaller church insisted on having a revival. That was an evening church service to try to get new people to attend and join the church.
Our pastor, as you can imagine, wasn’t happy about driving 30 minutes there and 30 minutes back every evening for a week. And, there was no one in that congregation who could play the piano for each service.
Yes, on Sunday, a woman in her 80s, who’d been playing on Sundays, told him she couldn’t do the revival.
Guess Who He Asked
So, Herbert asked me to stay a few minutes that Sunday, after the service. I knew his question would begin with, “Would you…?”
“Linda, you play the piano.”
Here it comes.
“We’re having a revival for my other congregation, beginning tomorrow evening at 7:00.”
I smiled.
“Would you play the piano for those services this week?”
What else could I say?
“I’ll be happy to.”
“Wonderful! You’ll need to be there about 6:45. I’ll already be there by 6:30.”
I have to admit I was happy not to have to ride with him. He had a tendency to talk about everything wrong in the world when he had a captive audience.
Hallelujah! I wouldn’t be that audience!
“Which songs will I need to play?”
“Can’t you choose some?”
I smiled. “Can you tell me, briefly, what your sermons will center on each night?”
He frowned. “I haven’t decided yet. If you’ll choose them and let me know what they are tomorrow, I’ll make sure to tie my sermon to each song.”
“Okay. I’ll give you a list tomorrow.”
His grin told me he’d love it if I would preach each night of the revival, but I wasn’t about to offer to do that.
Revival Monday Evening
When I got to the tiny church, which was once a bakery, Herbert was standing at the podium. Six people had arrived and sat on the farthest row of chairs from the preacher.
I played some “while they come in” hymns for fifteen minutes. Then, Herbert waved at me to stop.
His welcome was less than enthusiastic. When he introduced me, I turned on the bench and waved at the nine people who’d arrived.
When we got to the first congregational hymn, five more people had come in. I played the introduction to a lively little hymn I figured would get them into the mood to be revived.
After the first verse, Herbert interrupted.
“Linda, I love how you’re playing with enthusiasm, but I just can’t keep up with that pace. Could you slow it down a good bit?”
I nodded and played another introduction at half-speed. He nodded gratefully.
That hymn had five verses. Herbert had announced that we’d be singing all verses. A good plan for his short sermon to come, and two more hymns to sing.
While I plodded through the next four verses, my mind wandered.
These people think they have problems.
But they have easy problems to resolve.
They’re nothing like Frodo’s problems.
Frodo and Sam have to take that ring all the way to Mordor and…
Where was my mind?
We’d gotten to the end of the hymn, and I’d started playing it again. I stopped when I could do it intentionally.
Herbert stared at me.
“I love that hymn.”
He turned away and announced the next hymn. Only four verses this time.
I realized my mind had wandered all the way from the Hobbit Shire to Mordor, worrying about Frodo and Sam.
I’d just finished reading Fellowship of the Ring, the first book in the Lord of the Rings trilogy by JRR Tolkien.
This revival had interrupted my starting The Two Towers, the second book of the trilogy.
Frodo, Sam, Merry, and Pippin were real people — uh — hobbits to me! Also, Aragorn, Gandalf, Elrond, Gimli, Legolas, Arwen, and Galadriel.
For the first time, I realized how real a book and its characters could be to a reader!
I’d been writing novels that were strictly done as practice for the day I’d someday write a novel that an editor would love.
Now, I knew how to do that. Create characters so real they’d become living, breathing people for my readers.
We Were Revived
I limited my reading to a couple of hours every afternoon that week, then ran through the hymns I’d be playing that evening.
I wore a gold chain bracelet that would remind me, if I drifted into the realm of the Ents, and Treebeard — trees that were thousands of years old who really missed the Entwives, who’d left so very many centuries ago.
By Friday night, the congregation had grown to twenty-nine! Most of them came to the piano to thank me for playing hymns they loved, and playing them faster than a funeral procession.
Herbert didn’t last long at our church. Soon after the revival, he decided to retire.
By then, Frodo and Sam had made it to Mordor. Frodo fought with Gollum just before dropping the ring into the boiling lava below. Gollum bit off Frodo’s finger and fell into the lava with the ring.
Then, the eagles came to rescue Frodo and Sam.
I’ve always wondered why Gandalf didn’t just get the eagles to fly Frodo and Sam to Mount Doom to throw the ring into the lava. Hmmm.
Hugs,
Linda
This is brilliant I love hearing about people’s journeys with books. I have just invited you to my group on Facebook because I need a place to hang out with friends and talk about books.
That was wonderful