The little girl.
She comes into the kitchen singing.
She hears Him.
That whisper, to worship Him.
She wants that song.
"MOM", "HOLY, HOLY"
With that anxious, persistent little voice, how can I say wait?
"ME LISTEN, PLEASE"
And then I hear...
"MOM, MOM"....."HOLY GOD". "PLEASE, ME LISTEN...IPAD, please"
And as she hums, and twirls to her Lord.
That same girl, sings in a quiet praise. "holy God...."
She knows the tune.
It's stuck to her little heart.
She knows what the response to that call is... she knows what to do.
In all the moments of hard thoughts of despair that I, We, just are not cutting it as givers of who He is. I'm struck with that quiet voice, where I know that she knows.
He reminds me in those moments of guilt with heart tugging. "She's an oak, no worries mother." "She's here, she knows my voice. Why do you think she doesn't? I've knit her, I KNOW HER. She is marked, She is set apart. I claim her for my own. Enjoy these moments mother. Soak in my presence with her. Respond to my call. The call to worship ME. I am your God."