During his time as a Presbyterian pastor, my chosen Dad, David, used to do this silly little thing unconsciously until we pointed it out to him. Every time the church sang the hymn “Amazing Grace,” and we hit the highest note —
“Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like *meeeeeee*”
he would lift himself up high on his toes as he reached for the note. It was a very dear visual. He would do this on every single verse, mostly unaware that he was doing it.
Yesterday, I led a church service, and we sang this hymn. In a very subtle way (nowhere as obvious as he used to do) I flexed that part of my foot and lifted myself ever so slightly higher just to feel connected to him.
Smuggling Grace 