I sometimes wonder how well Paul and Silas sang
in that midnight prison.
Were their voices steady or shaky?
Did they sing boldly,
or did the notes quiver in the dark?
Maybe they lifted a Psalm—
one of those ancient songs that carry hope
when the world feels tight and heavy.
Whatever they chose,
it was enough to make the earth tremble.
And thinking about them
always brings me back to second grade—
when the music teacher handed me crayons
and sent me to the corner
while everyone else sang.
That moment settled deep,
as if my voice didn’t belong.
But the Lord has a way
of rewriting old stories.
Years later, He called me to be a Deacon—
and wouldn’t you know it,
He placed a song right back in my mouth.
My wife says I hit a note or two now,
and every once in a while
I even land on key.
But that’s not the heart of it.
Because somewhere along the way,
I realized I don’t sing to impress.
I sing because I believe.
I sing the Easter Proclamation,
I sing before the Blessed Sacrament,
I sing the Alleluia
whenever they give me the chance.
I sing because Jesus promised
the Holy Spirit—
the Advocate—
would come to us,
fill us,
and convict the world of truth.
So maybe Paul and Silas
had better voices than mine.
Maybe not.
But I know this:
they sang because the Spirit burned in them.
And that same Spirit burns in us.
We sing because we belong to Christ.
We sing because we believe.
Prayer
Holy Jesus,
Place Your song deep within my heart.
Let the Holy Spirit
steady my voice in every season.
As You strengthened Paul and Silas,
strengthen my praise.
Turn my weakness into worship
and my fear into faith.
I sing because I belong to You.
Let every note rise as an offering of love.
Amen
