Thanking the ones who have shaped your life.

If you have ever heard me tell the story of how I came to be a songwriter, you've heard about Thelma Baker. She was in leadership at Cecelia Memorial Presbyterian Church when I attended there as a college student. William Lane was "supply" preaching for about seven years and was the first person to ask me to write a song for Sunday service. Thelma, who was a deaconess, became the primary critic (in the most positive sense of the word) of new songs. "You wrote that one on the way to church. I can tell," she would say. Or once, "why did you even write that one." But every now and then..."you really got me with that song!" Thelma loved me even when I wrote a bad song, in fact, she loved me more when I wrote a bad song, knowing that at that point I needed more love. I doubt if I would have ever become a songwriter if it wasn't for Thelma.
Last week I played at a church in Bowling Green, where Thelma still lives, so we decided to stop by and say hello. She is 82 now and still the ball of fire knew 30 years ago. My daughter, Maggie, made her a cake and we spent the afternoon together.
We are, all of us, a sum total of men and women who have poured their lives into ours somewhere along the way. You would not be who you are were it not for a dozen or so people who formed you. Spending the afternoon with Thelma reminded me powerfully of that fact. I couldn't help but whispering to myself over and over that day what a privilege it was to have even known her, much less for her to have taken an interest in me and poured so much of herself into my life. It was good for me to thank her, to see her face again. I suppose I am wanting you to go and do likewise. Even if it is only one person, take the chance of telling them how thankful you are to have had the privilege of knowing them.