I’ve been asked why I call my father “Poppa.” I would be happy to share.
For many years, I was a member of the Olathe College Church of the Nazarene choir. Led by Hardy Weathers we took on tough and fun music. Ever rehearsal, we would spend time practicing 4 or 5 pieces, always polishing up the choir special for the following Sunday.
On Sunday mornings we would gather in our choir room to do a final run through and then file into the choir loft. You could almost set your watch by our entrance. It was a beautiful sanctuary and singing in the choir helped to lead the congregation in worship. What a joy those years were.
During my years in the choir, I did a variety of things in the hour that preceded the worship service time. Some years, I was in a Sunday School class, other years I taught one. I remember helping with attendance records for a bit and other tasks. But, I always left my assignment in time to get to the choir room on time for rehearsal.
My last few years in the College Church choir were spent worshiping in the large sanctuary they still use. It is an impressive hall, seating over 4,500 and laid out in just short of a half-circle. For me, the most direct route to our choir room was down one of the main aisles of that large sanctuary.
I hated walking that path alone and so my Poppa would “walk me down the aisle” every Sunday morning. He always had a spring in his step as we walked and I enjoyed being on his arm. One day I said to him, “You are really popping up and down today.” He laughed and said, “Yep, that’s me – Poppa!” He never failed to meet me, to help me make that walk. And, I felt like a princess – every single time.
A few years later, when he walked me down the center aisle, me wearing my mother’s wedding gown, to meet John at the altar, being on Poppa’s arm made me so happy. On that day, he still made me feel like a princess. You see, simple things matter.
Jill (just one of God’s kids)