How I Lost My Voice In Seattle, and How God Sang Over Me

When man can no longer sing, He will never cease to sing over us!

I have arrived at beautiful Hillsdale College early this morning after taking the red-eye from Seattle to Detroit. That flight was a bit like the feeling PSG had after being physically and skillfully overwhelmed by Chelsea in the World Club Final. Suffice it to say, I arrived in Michigan somewhat discouraged by my bodily decay. Nevertheless, I persevered and have finally arrived in the beautiful town of Hillsdale. I have never been to Michigan before, so I will add this to my collection of states, which now surpasses 40.

While my current agenda unfolds here, I would like to give you some notes on my past week in beautiful Olympia, WA:

Olympia’s forests, mountains, and rivers form a perfect trio of natural beauty. We have vacationed here before, but returning once again was a confirmation that we may need to vacation here once more. This time, I have an entirely new group of friends from the saints of Trinity Church (Seattle).

Pastors Dave Hatcher and Tyler Hatcher (father/son) invited me to be their speaker at their family camp this year. Family camps are standard features of CREC life. When you would think our people are tired of each other’s hospitality, they confine themselves to limited spaces and tight-knit activities at camp. This has been one of my favorite aspects of CREC life, and it is undoubtedly a key part of our denomination's ethos. Our love for one another translates into numerous opportunities for fellowship outside of worship on the Lord’s Day. I affirm that the worship of God’s people overflows into the fellowship of the saints.

Olympia Bound

On my way to the camp, I discovered a great little coffee shop and spent a couple of hours working there. The folks were kind and attentive, and the coffee reflected the best of Seattle prices. That was a $7 Americano with steamed milk. It’s the experience that counts, right? I am bringing some of this expensive Seattle goodness home with me.

When I arrived at the camp, my new friend, Roger, helped me situate myself. I found my little cabin adorable. It was isolated from the rest of the folks and provided me a little privacy. If you’re gonna be in the forest, don’t expect anyone to hear you when you clap with one hand.

When My Voice Stood Still

The first evening went well. I laid out my general premise, which is that the story of Jonah highlights the dangers of pride, the power of God’s mercy, and God’s unrelenting ability to fulfill His purposes, often through reluctant servants. God will chase you down through his own means.

Afterward, we went to the fire pit to enjoy some fellowship and for some casual Q&A. My good friend, Dave, knew my affection for the guitar and lent me his for some cherished Cash and Denver.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was the last time my voice was somewhat intact.

I distinctly remember being unable to hit those high notes that I have sung thousands of times in the past. I went back to my cabin and realized that something was happening. For those who may not know, I have been lecturing at conferences for over 15 years, and preaching for over 20 years, and I have never once lost my voice. It may have been laryngitis or some minor head cold, but either way, it knocked me down severely.

By the time I delivered my second talk, I was half the man I used to be. I managed to talk for about 50 minutes and take several questions from the audience. I realized that the coffee I had before I arrived was the last cup I’ve had since. My scheduled still had me doing another talk, preaching on Sunday morning, and traveling to Michigan for several other events. I went on a tea/honey diet. We were somewhat distant from everything else, and all the medication I had at home didn’t come with me, except my trusted vitamins.

The saints were incredibly gracious and patient with me. I rested throughout the afternoon and delivered my final talk in the evening, followed by a brief Q&A session. Unfortunately, I had planned four lectures and forgot that I was only assigned three talks. So, I had to do some trusted summarizing. I was glad to be able to finish the material I brought and engage with the saints on Jonah and related topics.

Every conference has its unique flavor, and this one did. In previous talks where I have addressed Jonah, the theme of providence has emerged as a recurring topic. On other occasions, the matter of Jonah’s typology of Jesus was central. On this one, however, for the first time, at least a couple of folks brought questions regarding the Assyrians and their role in the destruction of Israel post-conversion. That was unexpected, but thankfully, I still recalled some research I had done on the Assyrians to fill in the gaps. The conversations were fruitful. I also had some delightful observations from the little people who immediately made connections with Jonah as the dove going into dry land, and the dove sent out by Noah, who found dry land on the third day. Out of the mouths of babes! It’s very clear that this congregation has been well-trained.

For those who have read our commentary, I subscribe to the Jordan/Leithart thesis that Jonah’s flight is not due to cowardice, but rather a conflicted patriotism. He loves Israel—even in its idolatry—more than he loves God’s broader plan. Jonah’s refusal to go to Nineveh reflects his discomfort with God's mercy toward Israel’s enemies, especially given Assyria’s growing threat and eventual conquest of the northern kingdom. If Jonah’s missiological labors succeed, Assyria will likely turn its eyes towards the disobedient Israelites.

Brett Baker, Dave and Tyler Hatcher

I don’t recall preaching at a Sunday morning camp before, but the whole experience was terrific. The additional blessing is that the night before, I was unable to sleep, so I walked over to one of the rooms reserved for drinks and snacks. I made myself a cup of tea and, as I was walking back, happened to see that my old friend, Tim Russell, was vacationing at Olympia. I thought these were old pictures, and briefly commented on his post. He replied to tell me they were still nearby and had moved closer to my own location. They drove about an hour to join us for worship.

To put things into perspective, Tim and I have been friends for over 25 years. He was one of my groomsmen, and I was one of his groomsmen. Our friendship goes back to the freshman year of college. He lives in central Pennsylvania, and I live in northwest Florida. The chances are astronomically low that the two of us would find ourselves separated by 60 miles. His son, Josh, conducted a brief analysis of the probability of our encounter. Here is the conclusion:

So What Are the Chances?

Roughly 1 in 5 million—give or take depending on how frequently you and your friend travel or attend events in other states.

That’s astronomically rare and definitely qualifies as a "what are the odds?!" moment.

It was a little lesson in trusting God when the very voice that shapes your communicative skills is gone. The additional blessing is that Tim’s wife brought me some necessary supplements, which I took just before the service. I feel about 40% better than I did on Sunday.

With Tim and his family

Providentially, I preached through Zephaniah 3 that morning and made the case that God sings over us with loud shouts. So, there I was, often confident of the weightiness of my voice, unable to sing through any hymn, and still preaching that God sings over us. Ultimately, when all our gifts fail, and we have little to offer except weak voices, our song is not unknown to God. He takes our gifts and makes them whole, and then he gifts us with his own singing. When man can no longer sing, He will never cease to sing over us!