Are you counting your blessings or your problems, asks Rob Parsons, Founder and Chairman of Care for the Family, remembering his childhood visits to Elim’s church in Cardiff
When I was a teenager I went to the little Gospel Hall on the corner of my street. The church of my youth had lots of things going for it, but excitement wasn’t one of them.
And it was in search of a little excitement that my friend Carl and I occasionally used to desert our Brethren assembly and sneak into the large Pentecostal church in the heart of our city.
If the elders from our church had caught us within 50 yards of the place we’d have been excommunicated, but the second we walked through the doors of the City Temple (now City Church), Carl and I knew it was worth the risk. We were always wide-eyed. Whereas our little place of worship had pews, the Pentecostals had cinema seats; and whereas we had 100 members, they had 1,000 – which meant the variety of ‘sisters’ was truly awesome.
And in the Temple, there was always the chance of seeing or hearing something amazing. I remember Carl leaning into me and whispering, “Listen, I think they’re going to do it.” I listened and suddenly someone started praying out loud in a language I thought I’d heard in our local ice cream parlour. I whispered, “He sounds like Mr Rabbiotti when he’s shouting at his wife!” Carl allowed himself one of his superior smiles and said, “It’s tongues – it’s the language of heaven.”
Someone once said, “As you get older, you are more likely to remember something in your childhood than where you left your glasses!” I think that’s right, and when it comes to the City Temple, it’s the singing especially that I remember with crystal clarity. They sang loudly, they sang enthusiastically, and the songs were so positive. My favourite was ‘Count Your Blessings’ – “Count your blessings, name them one by one, and it will surprise you what the Lord has done.”
One day the pastor spoke about that song and told us it was a sin to take God for granted. He said that God liked us to be grateful and that Jesus was really disappointed that only one leper came back to say thank you. He told us to make sure that we thanked God every day for the good things he has given us.
I loved singing ‘Count Your Blessings’ but adulthood robbed me of that joy. Cynicism picked at the words, sophistication complained about the melody, and there were plenty of people ready to tell me that life wasn’t quite so simple, that pain was everywhere, and that silly, shallow songs had no place in a mature Christian’s musical repertoire. So I stopped singing my favourite song and instead I chose one called, ‘Count Your Problems, Name Them One By One’.
Even during times when I was spared major traumas, I’d find smaller ones that seemed worth counting. Last year my central heating packed in for two days. Last month I lost my mobile phone. Last week the courier delivered some books I’d ordered to the wrong address and I had to spend an hour on the phone trying to find them.
When I was 40 years old, I went to Africa. I saw shanty towns where tens of thousands of people live with no running water and no proper sewage system. Often a family of six live in a room just ten feet by ten with a few planks of wood for walls and a bit of tin for a roof. Some are hungry and some have AIDS, and all of them would give almost anything to live in a house where the central heating broke down once in a while.
As I’m writing, my eyes are filling with tears, and I ask God to forgive the sheer selfishness of my little world and the breathtaking lack of gratitude I have shown him for all his many mercies to me. And I make a vow: I’m going to start singing the old song again.
Extract taken from FROM THE HEART An honest look at life and faith by Rob Parsons published by Hodder and Stoughton ISBN 9781529358155. Used by permission.
This article first appeared in the March 2023 edition of Direction Magazine. For further details, please click here.
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