Bind Us Together

Old and young we stand.

Hands reaching out to clasp our brother's.

The work-worn grasping the child's,

Circling the high-ceiling sanctuary of our little church,

We join as brotherhood.

And we sing,

"Bind Us Together."

Something my grandpa started,

That is now a precious tradition.

I remember the time when, hands joined, we reached 'round the whole auditorium,

And now our little group only completes half.

But it is a godly group,

Filled with those seeking His will.

I remember singing, hands joined, looking across the circle at my best friend's dad.

Who, not long after, died young from heart failure,

Leaving a young widow with 3 daughters and a son on the way.

I remember singing after sweet communions, and after my baptism.

And I remember the time when I could hardly sing for the tears.

It is not mere form,

Or a required rite.

It is a demonstration of love,

And care,

And brotherhood.