The little church I attended as a boy in East Tennessee could seat about a hundred people packed. The building was an old structure constructed in the mid-1800s with stained glass and hardwood benches that were surely built out of the gopher wood of Noah’s ark.

When it came to worship, there was no children’s church. You sat with your parents and enjoyed (at times endured) the service. I know I had some undiagnosed ADHD because I couldn’t sit still in the services. The test of any momma’s sanctification is making a rambunctious little boy sit still on a hard church pew. Eventually, my momma would wear down and allow me to play on the floor with my Trans Am Hot Wheels car that I snuck into the service. Still, playing Smokey and the Bandit on old oak planks is entertaining only for so long.

So with the speed of a striped snake, I would crawl four or five pews up from my parents. The height of my rebellion was not the escape but the fact that I would stop at each neighboring bench to give a sudden tug to the polyester stockings of the female occupants.

Most people thought those church ladies were getting happy in the Lord when they would squeal. But it was the surprise of a grubby-handed boy yanking down on their L’eggs Sheer Energy that fired their exclamation of exuberance. Unbeknownst to the preacher, I was the spark of many revivals in that old church.

Despite all my boyhood ecclesiastical escapades, I did pay attention. And today, what I find myself remembering most was the plain, shaped-note singing of that country choir. Songs like “Tempted and tried we’re oft made to wonder…” overflow my memory today. Each song was split into four stanzas lamenting the hardships of life, but the refrain always pointed to the hope of eternal life. It was the chorus that reminded us to “cheer up, my brother” and “live in the sunshine.”

Right now, for many, life is trying, but I remind you, this is just one verse in the melody of your life. And thank God, the chorus of hope doesn’t change. So rare back, join in with the country chorus and make a joyful noise singing about the promise of heaven.

Believe it or not, despite all my childhood heathen ways, I asked Christ to be my Savior as a five-year-old boy at that same old church. Yes, I stopped crawling under pews and tugging on hosiery. But most importantly, that moment allows me to build my hopes on things eternal and hold to God’s unchanging hand.

“So cheer up my brother” and sing a little bit about the sweet by and by – today.