Surrounded by wheelchairs and walkers, my dark-hair head bobbed with gray-hair, white-hair, and no hair heads. We tapped our feet; we clapped our hands. Putting aside aches, pains, and memory lapses, we sang together. We lifted our voices for an audience of One.

I accompanied my 89-year-old Aunt Dot to a gospel sing-along at her assisted living facility. One elderly couple held hands while another lady dozed off. Charlotte elevated her wrapped foot. Susie sang even when unsure of the words.

When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well, with my soul

With their worn and broken bodies, their forgetful and confused minds, they sang. It is well, it is well, with my soul. I believed they meant every word. Their pure worship honored God.  Blemished but beautiful.

The presenters offered the salvation message; straight and to the point. Have you asked Jesus into your heart? Raise your hand and we will pray with you. Wynita, who is 99-years old, raised her hand. With child-like faith, she accepted Christ as her Savior.

For there’s a new name written down in glory,
And it’s mine, O yes, it’s mine!
With my sins forgiven I am bound for Heaven, Never more to roam.
The heavenly choir sang through their ailments and loneliness. Every stanza gave  God the glory. Surrounded by wheelchairs and walkers, I discovered Holy ground and it was well with my soul.