Some Sunday mornings I find it hard to get going. In the quiet of a still house the warmth of my bed calls to me, and sleeping late seems good. There are Sunday mornings I go through the motions because it’s what I do… what I’ve done all my life. This was one of those mornings.
I entered the dim sanctuary, guitar slung over my shoulder, bag heavy in my hand. The microphones needed setting up, stools put in place, music stands set for the morning. It’s been a year now. Gathering with others to begin Sunday mornings through prayer and praise. The group of worshipers span all ages and stages of life.
She’s the youngest of our worshipers… the tiny tot with the blonde hair. She walked in holding the hand of her grandfather and sat snuggled among cousins. The music began and she bobbed her head, clapped her hands all the while grinning from ear to ear.
During this Lenten season we’ve joined voices in praying the Prayers of the People, an old tradition in our church I encountered for the first time at church camp as a young girl. The prayer takes time as people voice their concerns for our world, our community and our church. As we completed our time of prayer with the Lord’s Prayer, I raised my eyes and see her there. Sitting on her grandfather’s lap, eyes closed, resting. I wondered has she fallen asleep?
As we sang our last song the worshipers greeted each other, shared God’s love, and she entered the aisle to leave. Only she’s not leaving… she’s DANCING. Her aunt watched as her little hands clap and she moved to the music. I giggled inside because there are times I would like to dance in the aisle just like her.
This was the Sunday we talked about saints. How every Believer is a saint and each one of us is called to invest in the growing, loving, and teaching of others. That tiny pig tailed girl just now learning to talk gave this girl a lesson on worship I won’t soon forget.
She taught me to hold tight to the Father’s hand as I enter His sanctuary to worship. She reminded me sometimes going through the motions means sitting right down snuggled in among other Believers, my brothers and sisters in Christ.
When it’s time to pray and you’ve used up all your words, why not get comfortable and close your eyes. Rest in the knowledge the one’s lap you sit in has it all under control, and He’ll never let you go.
And shouldn’t we all leave worship dancing down the aisles… moving to the rhythm of His love and grace?Bubbling over with joy.
Jesus said it once, “unless you turn and become like little children, you will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven”. Who knew such a power packed truth would come through the little one just learning to say my name. The preacher was right Sunday. Every single one of us is a saint, from the youngest to the oldest. And we all have a message to give, and gifts to use, time to invest in others.
She won’t remember the Sunday she taught me to worship. But I will… it’s a lesson I’ll never forget.