“I Sing a Song of the Saints of God” – Finding Holiness in Ordinary Lives

Every year, when the Church calendar turns to All Saints and All Souls Days, I find myself humming a familiar tune: “I Sing A Song of the Saints of God.” It’s one of those hymns that’s been tucked into my heart for as long as I can remember. Whenever I hear it, something inside me feels both joyful and comforted, like I’m being reminded of a deep truth that the world too easily forgets: holiness isn’t about perfection; it’s about love lived out in ordinary life.

Remembering the Everyday Saints

The hymn begins simply:

“I sing a song of the saints of God, patient and brave and true,
Who toiled and fought and lived and died for the Lord they loved and knew.”

What I love most about this hymn is that it doesn’t just talk about saints in stained glass windows or ancient stories. It reminds us that saints can be “the doctor, or the queen, or the shepherdess on the green.” They can be people we pass on the street, people who hold our hand when we’re scared, or people who show up when life feels heavy. The hymn allows us to see the sacred in the everyday, to recognize holiness in people who may not even realize they’re reflecting God’s light.

As someone who lives with a disability, this hymn holds special significance for me. Too often, the world, and sometimes even the Church, focuses on what we can’t do instead of what we bring to the table. But this hymn tells a different story. It reminds me that sainthood isn’t about physical strength, perfect health, or grand achievements. It’s about faithfulness, courage, and love; things that every single one of us can embody, no matter our circumstances.

Saints in Our Own Time

When I picture saints, I think of people who love quietly, who persevere when life gets hard, and who live with compassion even when they’re hurting. I think of caregivers who tend to loved ones with patience and grace. I think of friends who keep showing up, even when they’re tired or overwhelmed. I think of people who live with chronic illness, pain, or disability and still find ways to love, laugh, and pray.

The saints in this hymn are not distant or unreachable; they’re right here among us. They’re the people in our pews, in our hospitals, in our homes. And sometimes, they’re the person looking back at us in the mirror.

That realization has changed the way I experience All Saints Day. It’s no longer just a day to remember holy figures from long ago. It’s a day to honor the people who shape our lives right now, the ones who help us glimpse God’s kingdom through small acts of kindness, inclusion, and perseverance. It’s also a day to believe that we, too, are called to be saints in our own unique way.

The Quiet Beauty of All Souls Day

If All Saints Day celebrates the great cloud of witnesses, All Souls Day is more personal. It’s a time to remember those we’ve lost, the ones whose lives touched ours directly. For me, it’s a time to think about the people who saw me, who encouraged me to live fully and faithfully even when life felt uncertain.

Sometimes I’ll light a candle and whisper their names. I think about how each of them shaped me, not because they were perfect, but because they were real. They struggled and doubted and kept going anyway. They taught me that God’s grace meets us right where we are, not where the world says we should be.

In a way, the hymn “I Sing a Song of the Saints of God” bridges these two days beautifully. It reminds us that the saints we celebrate in heaven and the loved ones we remember on earth are all part of the same story — God’s story of love made visible through human lives.

The Saints Among Us — and Within Us

When I sing that final verse —

“They lived not only in ages past; there are hundreds of thousands still.
The world is bright with the joyous saints who love to do Jesus’ will.”

— I feel hope rise in my chest. It’s a reminder that the work of the saints continues. We are not spectators in the story of holiness; we are participants. Whether we move with canes or wheelchairs, whether we speak loudly or in silence, whether our days are filled with energy or pain, we each carry a spark of God’s love that can light up the world around us.

In the disability community, that truth is especially meaningful. Many of us know what it feels like to be unseen, underestimated, or excluded. Yet the hymn insists that God’s saints are everywhere: in schools, in hospitals, in grocery stores, in churches that make space for all bodies and all voices. That means we belong. We always have.

Carrying the Song Forward

As All Saints and All Souls Days come around this year, I hope we all take time to listen for the song of the saints in our own lives. Maybe it’s in the laughter of a friend, the touch of a caregiver, or the courage of someone facing another hard day. Perhaps it’s in your own story, the quiet ways you’ve kept faith, helped others, or offered kindness when it wasn’t easy.

We don’t have to be famous or flawless to be saints. We just have to live with love.

So I’ll keep singing:

“You can meet them in school, or in lanes, or at sea,
In church, or in trains, or in shops, or at tea;
For the saints of God are just folk like me,
And I mean to be one too.”

And every time I do, I’ll remember: the saints of God come in all shapes, sizes, and abilities. Some walk, some roll, some speak softly, some sign with their hands. All are beloved. All are needed. And all are part of the song.