An Update from Mark Edwards

Mid-afternoon today I returned from a fast almost nine days away -- a combination of work and play. The work part was leading three sessions at Baylor's annual Alleluia Church Music Conference -- two related to the Notes from Susie book and one pinch-hit conducting a reading session of some Celebrating Grace music. That event is always fun because I'm always able to re-connect with friends from afar, and this year there was a good crop of them. 

The play part was seeing some family and visiting with a few friends along the way as far south as San Antonio. I had a couple of interesting expected "coincidences" that I'll tell you about in the next few days. 

The bookend Sundays on either side of the Baylor event, I led music at Second Baptist Church in Memphis where son Nathan paved a clear path for me to step in and enjoy the fruits of his bi-vocational labor as minister of music through the end of June. He even scripted the worship services through July so I led the hymns and anthems he chose. He chose well, and the choir sang well. 'Twas gratifying indeed to hear many in that congregation speak how much they appreciated Nathan's ministry and how much they now miss him, Corri, and kids. Attaboy, Nate!

Sitting in church this morning and again rolling along I-440 this afternoon, it occurred to me how blessed and thankful I am nearing age 69, to first be able to continue to "play" in the church music game and even greater, to have the opportunity to do so -- yet more of God's goodness and provision for me. I love music of the church and next Sunday I get to do some more of it with the best singing congregation and choir I know -- FBC Nashville. That's always a treat and I look forward to it. 

It's good to be home now for a while. Gallivanting around as in recent days takes its toll on an old dude. 

Here's a hymn we sang at Second this morning: 

In the bulb there is a flower; in the seed, an apple tree;
in cocoons, a hidden promise: butterflies will soon be free!

In the cold and snow of winter there's a spring that waits to be, 
unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see. 

There's a song in every silence, seeking word and melody;
there's a dawn in every darkness bringing hope to you and me. 

From the past will come the future; what it holds a mystery, unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.  

In our end is our beginning; in our time, infinity;
in our doubt there is believing: in our life, eternity. 

In our death, a resurrection; at the last, a victory, 
unrevealed until its season, something God alone can see.

Hymn of Promise – words by Natalie Sleeth 
© 1986 Hope Publishing Company