Heck No, Techno

Ghena sings hymns in the car with her kids when we drive places. Her children have favourite hymns. Her 3 year old can quote part of the Westminster Catechism. Her 6 and 7 year olds can quote Luke 2 and Isaiah 35. If anyone knows hymns, Ghena does. This needs to be said as a sort of preface before the following conversation can be understood.

Sara: I’ve had a song stuck in my head all day, and it’s a hymn and I don’t know the name or the lyrics.

Ghena: hum it for me.

Sara (hums): I think there’s something about “my name is written on your hands.” And maybe something about the Great I AM? I mean, that fits, since it’s, you know, a name for God, right? So that could fit.

Ghena (snickers): yes, clearly, it’s a name for God. How does it go? (hums) My name on your hands? Hm (she looks very concerned while staring at her coffee for inspiration)

Sara: Oh my gosh.

Ghena: what?

Sara: Oh my gosh. OH. MY. GOSH. I know a hymn that you don’t. Ghena! I know a hymn that you don’t know!

Ghena: what?

Sara (ecstatically): I know a hymn that you DON’T! No way!

Ghena: Oh pleeeeease.

five minutes later (with the help of her husband), Ghena had the hymn title and was singing the redone version that I had picked up somwhere along my weary relationship with Christian music. She claims that if I had been humming the original tune that she’d have known it much sooner.

Well, at least I felt really awesome for a full five minutes.

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