The church lobby vibrated with the frenzied activity of a show about to “go on.” The annual Children’s Ministry Talent and Variety show was moments away, and performers shuffled around with excited anticipation. In the sanctuary, the performers’ parents, grandparents, brothers, sisters, and friends hugged, chatted, and laughed. Then, the lights went down, and the crowd fell silent, all eyes focused on the spotlighted stage.
One after another, dancers, singers, comedians, and musicians took their places, performed their numbers, and were rewarded with legitimate, enthusiastic applause. No hint of inauthenticity murmured its way through the open room, only true appreciation for the efforts presented.
And then came the highlight (at least for me) of the entire production. A trio of early-teen brothers with guitars took their place on the far right of the stage. The three boys sat on low stools set in the bright white of the spotlight, and the oldest boy softly counted down from three. Then, together they lifted their voices in praise as they began the opening measures of “Blessed Be Your Name.” My heart soared with their voices, and I thought that I couldn’t possibly enjoy the moment more. Oh, but I was wrong.
A second later, in a glance across the aisle my eyes fell on T, the 4-year old daughter, of my friend. T, a darling Teutonic-looking platinum blonde with long plaits down her back, was completely lost in the song. Just barely inside the pew, one little foot almost in the aisle, T stood, her focus entirely on the boys on stage and their song. As she observed them so very intently, her little bow of a mouth formed the words along with the brothers on stage. And the Spirit inside me swelled at this precious one’s worship.
T stood in open adoration of her Savior, her small face raised toward Heaven, her heart clearly revealed to anyone who cared to look her way. And looking at her shining in her obvious love of her Lord brought not only joy but also the twinge of a challenge. Could I be that open in my love for my Savior, that open in my worship and praise? Could I reveal my heart with such abandon?
I think mostly my honest answer was a very clear “no.” (What do you expect? I’m a restrained Southern woman.) But there are some days – some Sundays in worship, sometimes singing in my car, sometimes dancing in my kitchen – when I can manage to match T’s enthusiasm. And I find those days – those moments – are beautifully glorious; I’d hope He thinks so, too. My continual prayer is that there will come a day when nothing in my heart or head will intervene in my worship, that I can manage to routinely reveal my heart as fabulously uninhibited as a lovely 4-year old. And, as He is faithful in answering all of His Beloveds’ prayers, I trust this will happen. On that day, I will sing and laugh and dance and praise (and, in all likelihood, cry). You just may not see it, but it’ll happen.
The Unexpected Life 