In 1932, the prominent gospel songwriter and singer Thomas Dorsey traveled to St. Louis to perform at a revival. During the gathering a telegram arrived informing him that his wife had died giving birth to their son. Grief stricken, he was driven home to Chicago by a friend. When he arrived, he met his newborn son and was relieved that the baby seemed to be in good health. Tragically, the child unexpectedly passed away that very night.
In a letter penned to a friend forty-five years later he wrote:
“I buried my wife and little son in the same casket. I became despondent and filled with grief. A few days later I visited with my good friend. During my visit, I sat down at a piano and began to improvise. As I played, I began to say…
Precious Lord, take my hand
Lead me on, let me stand
I'm tired, I'm weak, I'm alone
Through the storm, through the night
Lead me on to the light
Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home
When my way grows drear precious Lord linger near
When my light is almost gone
Hear my cry, hear my call
Hold my hand lest I fall
Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home
When the darkness appears and the night draws near
And the day is past and gone
At the river I stand
Guide my feet, hold my hand
Take my hand precious Lord, lead me home…”
Out of tragedy sprang one of the most revered gospel songs of all time. It has been a standard at funerals worldwide, with its most famous performance undoubtedly at Martin Luther King Jr.’s service after his assassination in 1968, sung by Mahalia Jackson. It was King’s favorite hymn, and in a twist of sad irony he had asked Dorsey to play it for him on the very eve of his death. Gospel recording producer and writer Anthony Heilbut writes that “the few days following (King’s) death, ‘Precious Lord’ seemed the truest song in America, the last poignant cry of non-violence before a night of storm that shows no sign of ending.”
Because of Dorsey’s influence, gospel transformed into a religious music that inspires a release from physical and spiritual pain and suffering, particularly in black churches, rather than just sacred song compositions. He has been called the “Father of Gospel Music” by gospel singer and historian Bernice Johnson Reagon, for what she called his “aggressive campaign for its use in black Protestant churches.”
I have humbly recorded my own arrangement of the hymn, originally known as “Take My Hand, Precious Lord”, and entitled my version simply “Lead Me Home”. There are some melodic elements that are similar, however, I tried to create a folkier and hopefully equally singable arrangement that doesn’t detract from the mournfully hopeful message.
The recording below is a demo that will be finished and released as part of an album I am working on. I re-worked the stanzas of the song to better suit my melodic arrangement. I hope it speaks to you during this trying time and reminds you that our Lord Jesus is always near. Enjoy!
Precious Lord, take my hand, lead me on, let me stand;
I am tired, I am weak, I am worn.
Through the storm, through the night, lead me on to the light;
Hear my cry, hear my call, hold my hand lest I fall;
Precious Lord, lead me home…
When my way grows drear, precious Lord, linger near;
When my light is almost, almost gone;
Through the storm, through the night, lead me on to the light;
Hear my cry, hear my call, hold my hand lest I fall;
Precious Lord, lead me home…
When the darkness appears, and the night draws near,
When the day is past and gone;
Through the storm, through the night, lead me on to the light;
Hear my cry, hear my call, hold my hand lest I fall;
At the river I stand, guide my feet, hold my hand;
Precious Lord, lead me home…
Lead me home...