Near the Cross
My mum would periodically take one of us kids away for a few days in Adelaide. So it was that I was 8 years old, and in the Clarence Park Methodist Church when the minister announced the hymn "Jesus Keep Me Near the Cross." I'd never heard it, but something about it captured my imagination and I sang my heart out. I noticed my Mum giving me a startled sidelong glance—we didn't do fervent—but I determinedly ignored her and sang on. As we sat down, I carefully memorised the number so that I could find it back home in Gladstone. It's a schmaltzy hymn, the sort our theology lecturer later advised to avoid when leading worship, and with some reason. But grace has its own accounting. I think that was the day I joined the church.
(Andrea 2026)
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