WHEN IT NEVER LETS GO...

It's that time of year when the advertising world explodes with roses, diamond-ring-ads, romantic dinners, mushy cards and more....for Valentine's Day. No doubt, somewhere in all that, you'll hear recordings of Whitney Houston's 1992 hit, “I Will Always Love You.”

That's good and fine for the economy, but painful for those who are alone and live with rejection or are grieving life-loss. Yet those who are “alone”....aren't alone before God. In my reading about hymn history, I am always moved by the biography of Scotsman George Matheson (1842-1906). A minister and author, at one time, he was engaged to a young woman. But his increasing blindness (which began when he was 17) caused her to break the engagement.

He never married, though managed to preach and write with the help of his sister, becoming both a beloved and eloquent preacher. The year he turned forty, his sister married. That occasion brought back memories of his own heartbreak. Out of that despair, he reached out in faith for God's unchanging love, penning four stanzas of his greatest hymn: “O Love That Will Not Let Me Go.” The first verse goes like this:

O love that will not let me go, I rest my weary soul in Thee.

I give Thee back the life I owe, that in Thine ocean depths its flow

May richer, fuller be.

Matheson's pulpit skills strengthened in that little parish. But like many pastors experience, sometimes the crowds thinned. One winter evening service was especially poorly attended—except for a visitor Matheson knew nothing about. That visitor had come from the large St. Bernard's Church in Edinburgh, which was seeking a new pastor.

The visitor liked what he heard, and Matheson was called to the pulpit of that 2,000-member church. There, his popularity and influence grew. He reportedly said of that surprise visitor: “Make every occasion a great occasion. You can never tell when somebody may be taking your measure for a larger place.”

Sadly, as common for many old historic churches, its fellowship and even purpose changed in the next century. One recent hymn researcher who visited Matheson's old parish found the church locked up and a notice on the front door that it was now used for concerts and dances.

It's too bad there wasn't a compelling historical sign, recounting the building's extraordinary history as a place where eternal Biblical truths and hope were powerfully taught. As I read again the lyrics of Matheson's hymn, I was drawn to verse three:

O Joy that seeketh me through pain, I cannot close my heart to thee.

I trace the rainbow through the rain, And feel the promise is not vain,

That morn shall tearless be.

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Many groups have recorded this tender, hopeful hymn. Here is a rendition by Bill Gaither singers: Bing Videos