Annie Mae Pflughaupt - A Melody of Praise

PawPaw & Grandma-mommy, 1994

Psalm 121

I will lift up my eyes to the mountains;

From where shall my help come?

My help comes from the Lord,

Who made heaven and earth.

He will not allow your foot to slip;

He who keeps you will not slumber.

Behold, He who keeps Israel

Will neither slumber nor sleep.

The Lord is your keeper;

The Lord is your shade on your right hand.

The sun will not smite you by day,

Nor the moon by night.

The Lord will protect you from all evil;

He will keep your soul.

The Lord will guard your going out and your coming in

From this time forth and forever.

Psalm 121 is the second of 15 Psalms that are given the title “A Song of Ascent”. These 15 Psalms have been long thought to be the songs sung by the Jewish people as they traveled and ascended for any one of their three annual pilgrimages to Jerusalem. Like a road trip playlist or mix-tape, these Psalms encouraged worshippers as they traversed the long road up to Jerusalem, and because Jerusalem was set upon a mountain, everyone always went “up” to Jerusalem.

With that in mind, when you hear the beginning of Psalm 121, “I look my eyes up to the mountains”, you realize that atop those “mountains” was the city of Jerusalem. So there at the base of the mountain, the pilgrim looks up 2,500 feet in elevation to the final destination of their journey and wonders aloud . . .

“Who is going to help me complete this journey. Who will sustain me? Who will keep my foot from slipping? Who will shade my brow in the heat of the day?”

The answer, without pause or hesitation, is the Lord, the maker of Heaven and Earth.

Even when you are certain of the destination, and you know someday you will reach the top of that mountain, you can’t help but see the long road ahead of you. That road for my grandmother included scoliosis, joint pain and arthritis that caused her slender 5 feet 9 inch body to hunch to well below 5 feet. That road also included burying both of her parents, 4 brothers, 2 sons, and perhaps hardest of all, her beloved Bill.

My grandparent on their wedding day, 1953.

But despite all of the grief and pain of her pilgrimage, no one would ever describe Anne Mae Pflughaupt as sad or angry or bitter or burdened. No, she had a persistent joy in life and love for her family. There is no doubt this source of this joy and perseverance came from her relationship with Jesus Christ.

Grandmom’s parents were both followers of Jesus and she came to know Jesus at an early age. Or at least, that’s what we believe happen.  My aunt tried to get Grandmom to record her testimony on a cassette tape but she used up the whole tape telling stories about her children and completely forgot to tell her testimony.

What we do know is that Grandmom grew up going to church, playing piano in some 10 churches in the Houston area, and she raised her 3 sons and 1 “Puddin’ Pie” going to church every week. It’s a tradition that my parent’s have passed down to me and I am in the process of passing down to my two daughters.

Over the course of her lifetime, Annie Mae cultivated a deep and loving relationship with Jesus and as a result, she wrote and recited her own Song of Ascent. It was a simple song, consisting of only three words . . .

“Jesus, help me.”

They aren’t as poetic as the Psalm writer’s, I know, but don’t let their simplicity fool you.  She spoke these words with the same ferocity and commitment as those pilgrims standing at the base of the mountain. She prayed these words every day, and on many days they were the first words to escape her lips when she woke and the last words when she fell asleep.  As she was nearing death, even though she could no longer talk to you or look you in the eye, she still cried out, “Jesus, help me.” The words were programed deep into the core of her soul, like the muscles of an olympic athlete flexing with subconscious precision and expertise.

Her song, reminds me of a what Paul famously said in Philippians 4:13, “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.”  A lot of times this verse gets confused with our American belief that if you set your mind to something, and work hard, you can accomplish all things. But that interpretation robs the verse the deeper meaning Paul intended. Back up just two and a half verses, and you will hear a completely different message,

“[F]or I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I am.  I know how to get along with humble means, and I also know how to live in prosperity; in any and every circumstance I have learned the secret of being filled and going hungry, both of having abundance and suffering need.  I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:11b-13)

What Paul is saying here is that he has figured out the formula for being content in life no matter what’s going on around you. In moments of abundance or poverty. In moments of joy or great sorrow. That the formula is very simple. Jesus will help me. He will sustain me and protect me. He will keep my foot from slipping and keep the heat from beating against my brow.

The Bible never promises that the road will be easy--in fact Jesus tells us the way is narrow and difficult--but it does promise that the Lord will give us everything we need for the journey.

While preparing for this memorial to my grandmother, I came across an email that was written by my late Uncle Greg. He wrote this email just 10 days after my Grandfather passed away on my grandmother’s birthday in 2011. 10 days after my grandmother lost the love of her life, her husband of 57 years,

“Last night, Mom broke down and cried for 10 minutes while she was in the bathroom. I felt so helpless. All I could do was pray. Then, 20 minutes later, she was quietly singing a gospel hymn.”

This was my grandmother. Even in moments of great grief and loss, she sang to the Lord, and this was the melody of her life.

When you reach the end of your life and friends and family try to set your life to music, what will they say? Will they say it was a melody of sorrow and grief, a melody of anger and bitterness? You may be relieved if they say instead it was a melody of joy, friends and family. A melody of hard work and determination.

Those are all good melodies, and they are all melodies my grandmother sang, but more than these the life of Annie Mae Pflughaupt was a melody of praise.

The last thing I’ll say about the Songs of Ascent is that they helped equip and prepare the mind, body and the soul for it’s arrival in Jerusalem. Having heard the song of my grandmother’s life and having stood by her side as she completed her ascent, I know she was ready to enjoy for eternity the fullness of the presence of her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.