A Soundtrack for Pappy: A Grandfather's Legacy through Hymns



It was southern gospel music and hymns that constantly played in the farmhouse. Every few hours, the weather lady who lived on a kitchen shelf would announce “The outdoor weather is 63.4 degrees Fahrenheit” or the TV would interject the latest news headline, or occasionally, one of the TBN sermons. But mostly, it was the music – composing a soundtrack for Pappy’s life. The Gaithers. Karen Peck and New River. The Hoppers. The Easters. The Isaacs. The Chuck Wagon Gang.

Some of my earliest memories with Pap and Gram happened in the pews on Sunday mornings. I loved coming to the early service with them and sharing a hymnal with Pappy as his baritone voice rumbled out “A mighty fortress is our God, a bulwark never failing.” The ancient words of the hymns burrowed deep within my 9-year-old soul, and with them, the faith and legacy of my heritage.

“Pappy, did you want to be a preacher?” I asked him one day at the kitchen table. “No, when I was voted in at the age of 29, your grandma Hilda and I came home and cried all night. And then we accepted it.” “Be Thou My Vision, Oh Lord of My Heart” - He followed the Lord’s vision as he preached, and ministered, and called, and prayed. I asked him that day if he felt that preaching and pastoring was his call after all, and he said yes. Because of his obedience, a simple farmer had a profound impact for the kingdom of God. Pappy got to live out the idea that the Lord’s perspective and understanding are greater than ours and when we follow His will in our hearts and lives, He makes known the paths for us and in the process, blesses us.

Great is Thy faithfulness, Great is Thy faithfulness, Morning by morning new mercies I see, All I have needed Thy hand hath provided, Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me – Here’s the thing about faithfulness, it is crafted from ordinary moments intertwining, showing up and sticking with it, not getting distracted by grandiosity. I spent so much time with Pappy, but there aren’t a lot of BIG MEMORIES that stick out to me or even a favorite moment. Our conversations wove themselves into the fabric of our lives, whether I sat by his chair as he manned the antique shop, sat in a recliner with him in the living room, walked on the beach during our beach house vacations, or called him on the phone. The ordinariness of the conversations are a beautiful testament of the faithfulness that Pappy exuded and the legacy he lives in his children and grandchildren and great grandchildren.

In Pappy’s 95 years, he saw a lot of death and unknowns. His wife Hilda. A son Perry. His grandson Joel. His wife Evelyn. Countless relatives and friends. Illnesses. Cancer. Heart Failure. Farm accidents. He didn’t know what tomorrow held. The words written by Bill Gaither hold true -- Because He lives, I can face tomorrow, Because He lives, all fear is gone, Because I know He holds the future, And life is worth a living just because He lives. Death of loved ones didn’t stop Pappy from going forward. He held onto the knowledge that in Christ is where strength is found.

The last day I spent time with him (the Sunday before he passed away), I was sitting in the recliner next to him holding his hand and talking. He leaned close to me and said, “Elizabeth, there’s a hymn called ‘I Was There When It Happened. Whenever someone says that Jael looks like the Martins, which I don’t know how people can say that, Luis can respond with the song lyrics ‘I was there when it happened so I guess I ought to know.’” It gave us a good laugh! One of my other favorite stories of his was “How Babies are Made.” “My older brothers always told me that a crow laid an egg on a stump and it hatched and that’s where I came from!” Pappy had a great sense of humor. He would get a twinkle in his eye and give a great chuckle.

Softly and tenderly, Jesus is calling. The last day that all of the family hung out with Pappy two weeks ago, Pappy said, “I never spanked my grandchildren. And I only remember raising my voice one time.” For all of my memories, I would say that’s an accurate statement. I made sure to tell him how blessed we were that he was ours. Some grandparents never tell their grandkids that they love them. Mine did. He told me often, and then always incorporated Luis and Jael in once my family grew. Many occasions throughout the years, Pappy would slip his giant, wrinkled hand into mind and give it a few squeezes, content to chat and hold hands as we discussed antiques or the latest issue of Country Magazine. When I was very young, Pappy would crawl out of his nice warm bed, come get me and say, “go in and snuggle with Grammie where it’s warm.” When I spent the night there in college one or two times a week, I was always greeted with pancakes or cereal for breakfast where we discussed what was happening in our days. Watching him with my daughter Jael was a whole new level for my heart. They would stare at each other with those big brown eyes of theirs as she sat on his lap and Pappy would make faces and Jael would chatter at him. I understand the gentleness of Jesus due largely in part to Pap. And the law of sowing and reaping held true, for his gentleness, He did receive an entrance into Heaven with Jesus softly and tenderly calling him home.

There is something beautiful about Pappy’s last week of life – a dying in slow-motion of sorts if you will. The Sunday before he died, Luis and I drove down after church because we had gotten the news that he had taken a turn for the worst. We got to visit with him and family that afternoon, telling stories, and singing hymns. The rest of the week sounded like much the same with people visiting and sharing how he blessed them. Family members getting to tuck precious memories away as they held space with him and soaked up the last few bits of his wisdom. When peace like a river attendeth my way, when sorrows like sea billows roll, whatever my lot, thou has taught me to say, it is well, it is well with my soul.

I’m sad that Monday morning, I woke up to a world without Pappy. But I get a huge grin on my face when I think about the fact that he met Jesus in person at 9am on a Sunday morning – perfect timing. Just imagining the hymn sing, family reunion, and party that he’s now a part of makes me excited for the day it’s my turn to meet Jesus. When I heard the news, these lyrics flooded my heart: When we all get to heaven, What a day of rejoicing that will be, When we all see Jesus, We'll sing and shout the victory. 

Man. Son. Brother. Husband. Friend. Farmer. Preacher. Father. Widower. Pappy. Great-grandfather. Shopkeeper. Memory Keeper.

Pappy wasn’t a perfect man, nor should he be remembered as one. But the core of the legacy that Charles Martin, my dear Pappy, left is this – “Whoever pursues righteousness and love finds life, prosperity, and honor.” – Proverbs 21:21. The pursuit of God and righteousness is never in vain.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow, praise Him all creatures here below, Praise above ye Heavenly Hosts, Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.



Comments

  1. Wow what an incredible tribute. The writing is beyond what my words can put on the comments.

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