I Have Heard the Church Bells

Up until about six months ago, my husband and I lived in a tiny town in the Arkansas River Valley.  There was a Catholic church a few streets away, and every Sunday morning at about 8:30 they would ring the bell.  I always enjoyed hearing the bell ring, even if I’m not Catholic.  I know that being the heart of the Bible Belt, it would be noisy if all churches had bells that they used every Sunday morning to call people to church, but it would be lovely, too.  I’ve even heard that there are some places that do that, but that the bell-ringers have a type of song that they play that can be heard all over town.  I think that’s great!

Well, I wrote this poem just after I moved to that tiny town in 2009.  The sound of the bells reminded me of the hope I have as a Christian, and that inspired this little poem.  And now, though I no longer live where I can hear church bells each Sunday, I have that ringing, that hope in my heart.

“I Have Heard the Bells”

Regardless of the cost,

Regardless of the hassel,

Regardless of the stress and struggle,

I have heard the bells.

I have worried.

I have fretted.

I have been afraid and lonely,

But I have heard the bells.

I have seen

The old church houses

With old, rusted bells,

But I have still heard the church bells.

The bells still sing,

And Jesus still lives.

I know

For that is what the church bells ring.

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