> Who > wrote the song Precious Lord? I was very > surprised to find out who it > was. THE BIRTH OF THE HYMN PRECIOUS LORD > Back in 1932, I was a fairly > new husband. My wife, Nettie and I were living in a > little apartment on > Chicagos 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 > didnt 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 goodbye, 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 same > 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 didnt want to > serve Him anymore 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 > stillI was lost in grief. Everyone was > kind to me, especially > one friend. The following Saturday evening he took me > up to Maloneys 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. Once in my head they 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. > 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. - - - -Tommy Dorsey > For those too young > to know who he is, Tommy Dorsey was a well-known band > leader in the 1930s
Posted on: Sun, 23 Mar 2014 15:25:43 +0000
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