My precious girl had her Christmas program today.
It was lovely, and funny, and sweet. I could barely see her through my tears.
And I wondered as I sat and watched and discreetly wiped my eyes- why does the sight of these little souls make me so emotional?
Because the songs they are singing are about my Savior. The One I know, the One I love, the One who saved me.
My path to Him has been quite broken, carved from rock and stone, wet with tears, trod with heavy feet and a heavier soul.
But these little ones- my sweet little girl up there singing- they are singing for the glory of a God they know and do not doubt. Their songs are pure, coming from a place of the most glorious worship- a place of belief.
Their hearts are open to the words they sing- "Silent Night, Holy Night..." Their minds find the wonder of the nativity, of the birth of the Christ child, lying calm and peaceful in the stable. They see Him in pictures, and hear about him in song, and to them he is as real as we are.
The room for doubt has not entered their lives yet. The cynicism we carry as adults is absent. It is pure innocent love, these little voices lifted to their heavenly father.
To be that trusting again...
We are to have faith like a child. But the world sometimes speaks louder than God does. His is a quiet form of communication. You have to be very still to hear Him. But the world, the world shrieks at us day after day, drowning out the whisper of the One we are longing to hear from.
But my daughter listens to that still small voice. There is room in her heart not taken up with the cares of adult life. There is room in her soul for God to sing.
And sing she did, today. Loud and with her whole heart.
"Away in a manger, no crib for a bed. The little lord Jesus lay down his sweet head..."
