Posted by TerryS (198.133.22.69) on June 22, 2000 at 03:28:05:
THE BIRTH OF THE SONG, "PRECIOUS LORD"
>
>
> > >>
> > >>
> > >>
> > >>Back in 1932, I was 32 years old and a fairly new husband. My wife,
> > Nettie,
> > >>and I were living in a little apartment on Chicago's South side.
> > >>
> > >>One hot August afternoon I had to go to St. Louis, where I was to be
the
> > >>featured soloist at a large revival meeting. I didn't want to go.
Nettie
> > >>was
> > >>in the last month of pregnancy with our first child. But a lot of
people
> > >>were expecting me in St. Louis.
> > >>
> > >>I kissed Nettie good-bye, clattered downstairs to our Model A, and, in
a
> > >>fresh Lake Michigan breeze, chugged out of Chicago on Route 66.
However,
> > >>outside the city, I discovered that in my anxiety at leaving, I had
> > >>forgotten my music case. I wheeled around and headed back.
> > >>
> > >>I found Nettie sleeping peacefully. I hesitated by her bed; something
> was
> > >>strongly telling me to stay. But eager to get on my way, and not
wanting
> > to
> > >>disturb Nettie, I shrugged off the feeling and quietly slipped out of
> the
> > >>room with my music.
> > >>
> > >>The next night, in the steaming St. Louis heat, the crowd called on me
> to
> > >>sing again and again. When I finally sat down, a messenger boy ran up
> with
> > >>a
> > >>Western Union telegram. I ripped open the envelope. Pasted on the
yellow
> > >>sheet were the words: YOUR WIFE JUST DIED. People were happily singing
> and
> > >>clapping around me, but I could hardly keep from crying out. I rushed
to
> a
> > >>phone and called home. All I could hear on the other end was "Nettie
is
> > >>dead. Nettie is dead."
> > >>
> > >>When I got back, I learned that Nettie had given birth to a boy. I
swung
> > >>between grief and joy. Yet that night, the baby died. I buried Nettie
> and
> > >>our little boy together, in the same casket. Then I fell apart.
> > >>
> > >>For days I closeted myself. I felt that God had done me an injustice.
I
> > >>didn't want to serve Him any more or write gospel songs. I just wanted
> to
> > >>go
> > >>back to that jazz world I once knew so well. But then, as I hunched
> alone
> > >>in
> > >>that dark apartment those first sad days, I thought back to the
> afternoon
> > I
> > >>went to St. Louis. Something kept telling me to stay with Nettie. Was
> that
> > >>something God? Oh, if I had paid more attention to Him that day, I
would
> > >>have stayed and been with Nettie when she died.
> > >>
> > >>From that moment on I vowed to listen more closely to Him. But still I
> was
> > >>lost in grief. Everyone was kind to me, especially a friend, Professor
> > Fry,
> > >>who seemed to know what I needed. On the following Saturday evening he
> > took
> > >>me up to Malone's Poro College, a neighborhood music school.
> > >>
> > >>It was quiet; the late evening sun crept through the curtained
windows.
> I
> > >>sat down at the piano, and my hands began to browse over the keys.
> > >>Something
> > >>happened to me then. I felt at peace. I felt as though I could reach
out
> > >>and
> > >>touch God. I found myself playing a melody, and the words just seemed
to
> > >>fall into place:
> > >>
> > >>Precious Lord, take my hand, lead me on, let me stand. I am tired, I
am
> > >>weak, I am worn, Through the storm, through the night lead me on to
the
> > >>light, Take my hand, precious Lord, Lead me home.
> > >>
> > >>As the Lord gave me these words and melody, He also healed my spirit.
I
> > >>learned that, when we are in our deepest grief, when we feel farthest
> from
> > >>God, this is when He is closest and when we are most open to His
> restoring
> > >>Power. And so, I go on living for God willingly and joyfully, until
that
> > >>Day
> > >>comes when He will take me and gently lead me home.
> > >>
> > >>By Tommy A. Dorsey, GUIDEPOST
> > >>
> > >>Sometimes our greatest and most accurate observations about God come
in
> > >>moments of utter despair and desperation. Such was the case for Tommy
> > >>Dorsey. Such was the case for the Psalmist.
> > >>
> > >>Perhaps this is your experience as well. But, remember that God is
> always
> > >>present, ready to render aid to those who will seek and accept His
help.
> > >>Our
> > >>problem, perhaps, is that, when we are out of options with only one
hope
> > >>left -- God, we seem to tell Him exactly how He should get us out of
the
> > >>mess we got ourselves into. We need to let God, from His eternal
> > >>perspective
> > >>and heavenly vantage, choose the solution to our woes. He will never
let
> > >>you
> > >>down or leave you.
> > >>
> > >>Remember the poem " Foot Prints"? When you see only one pair of
> footprints
> > >>in the sand, don't assume that they are yours. In fact, at the times
you
> > >>called out to God and let Him help you, those footprints are the
Lord's
> as
> > >>He carries you. I pray that your weekend will be blessed. Reach out to
> > >>someone in pain or sorrow this week. Let them know how very much our
> Lord
> > >>loves them. Be a visible reminder of the compassion and mercy that God
> has
> > >>for us. Be encouraged!