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The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me,
because the LORD has anointed me
to preach good news to the poor.
He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim freedom for the captives
and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the LORD’s favor
and the day of vengeance of our God,
to comfort all who mourn,
and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of gladness
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the LORD
for the display of his splendor.
Isaiah 61:1-3
Late last November, LittleBit and IttyBitty beat us out the door to our back deck, but only by a minute. We were all four laughing wildly and jumping around. D leaned back, heaved heartily, and WHOOOOOSH! Out flew our last little pumpkin of the season. It plummeted over the rail, arcing down one story, racing over perfect trajectory just past the fenceline of fallen trees, thumping and jumping onto the pile of yard debris to be burned during the next rain.
Fast forward to yesterday, D’s first day off in quite a while, which he spent doing some yard work. Of course. It’s August in Georgia. Everything’s a’ growin’.
About an hour in, I heard the lawnmower stop and him call my name pretty enthusiastically (he’s in the middle of yard work; “enthusiastic”doesn’t naturally fit here). When I got downstairs, he told me to go look at our pile out back — before I could get halfway back, I SAW IT! A bright orange pumpkin and a thick green vine popping over our “fence” of felled trees and reaching up. I started yellin’ for the kids (remember: Georgia) and then I saw that it wasn’t “IT” it was “THEM” — we’re growing pumpkinS!
This is truly the handiwork of God — TRULY. See, our burn pile never got burned before winter set in. In addition to our sideways Christmas tree, there apparently were other fall/winter memories hanging around to surprise us. And now, during a month that I can honestly say has been THE roughest warfare we’ve ever seen, HERE SPRINGS THE PROMISE OF HIS HOPE!
Our children are absolutely *elated* — they loved making pumpkin pie last year and they’re clamoring for us to pick at least one to make some now. D and I stand speechless in awe and delight. We *needed* a Savior this week, needed the touch of His hand on furrowed brows and the sound of His promise in ringing ears. Footprints the size of a Lion, we have seen His wake; it is beautiful!
I don’t know what the next weeks hold. Frankly, I don’t know what the next few moments hold. But I know Who holds them. And, folks, that is enough for me.
Would you excuse me? I have a Trash-Pile-Pie to bake!
He sees me in the morning,
Lifting him out of bed.
The sun comes with little warning,
A brand new day’s ahead.
To the kitchen for some breakfast,
A plate of toasted bread,
A cup of milk just as expected,
Close your eyes and bow your head.
You can thank him for anything you want to,
For the flower’s and the trees
And pray,Lord Jesus, make me,
A little boy on my knees.
He’s Mommy’s little helper.
Learning to comb his hair.
And loves his baby sister,
Though he doesn’t always share.
A quarter in the bucket,
A memory verse or two,
Although he may not know it,
He’s beginning to follow you.
You can thank him for anything you want to,
For your Daddy and for me.
And pray, Lord Jesus, make me,
A little boy on my knees.
As we teach our Son to serve the Lord, in every way,
Lord the most important thing is this that we now pray,
Lord, we thank you everything you give us, but most importantly,
We pray Lord Jesus, make our Son a little boy on his knees.
Lord we thank you for everything you give us, but most importantly
We pray, Lord Jesus, make our Son,
A little boy on his knees.
We pray that someday he’ll become,
A young man on his knees.
“Little Boy on His Knees” by Cheri Keaggy
Oh, sweet boy! You drive tractors in SuperMan pajamas; you scaled the kitchen table to dance on it long before you could walk; you carry your bear and offer it to crying “little ones”; you introduce yourself with your full name and tell people it’s nice to meet them. You are an AMAZING gift to me! Delight of my life, joy of my days, there is *nothing* like my little warrior for Jesus! I love you, little one!
“Dear God, I would LOVE to be a contemporary Christian singer! I would love to encourage people like Kathy Trocolli! I want to sing for YOU!!!!”
18 years.
That’s how long ago I feverishly scrawled those words in blindingly loopy cursive. In the middle of a journal entry about my love of singing, my frustrations about not being allowed to take formal lessons, and — as was common that year — constantly bothering asking God about what I was ultimately going to do in life.
I can still see that page — loops, caps, and all.
It didn’t take long for the worries of the world to weed out that dream. I was never chosen to perform any solos in church. Or anywhere else.
Well, there was that time after choir practice that my friend and I hung around and she talked to the music pastor and I intentionally set out to sing as high — but subtle — as I could while they conversed; he asked me in a somewhat bemused, somewhat annoyed tone, “Sarah, would you like to go pick a tape and sing something on a Sunday night?” I, of course, acted completely surprised, then hurried into the tape closet to select the perfect Sandi Patty song — preferably one that didn’t lilt too high for my mainly mezzo-soprano vocal chords. You can imagine how proud I am of that incident. I think I must have started nauseatingly rolling my eyes about the whole thing then, too, because I remember slipping the tape back into the rack and never singing a solo on any Sunday night.
For many years, I would proclaim to others that I could not sing and had a horrible singing voice. This was not — is not — the case. I do have a horrible pride problem about it. I was exactly like “that” friend who said, “My hair looks SO bad today!” fully expecting everyone around to proclaim, “No it doesn’t! Your hair looks GREAT!” Gotta love “reverse pride” — the best student pastor I know often says, “Telling everybody you stink at something so they can say you don’t is just as prideful as bragging, only you’re asking others to do it for you.” Ahhh… Truth hurts a little.
I would intentionally listen only to songs *I* could sing; I loved Avalon, Twila Paris, Third Day, and oh my, Nicole Nordeman. Anything I could pull harmony or belt melody, I was there. But I wasn’t listening.
So one day, in the car, as I’m driving around with my radio loud and my voice louder, He asked me who I was singing for. (Because He had already seen the worship times and solos in my head) And I tried to answer, “I just want to praise You, Lord.”
That didn’t go well. Truth hurts a lot.
At that moment, He had me take a fast from singing. I could sing in my heart, but if I opened my mouth, I was halted by the sickening aftertaste of pride. Like orange juice and milk on a hot day, it burned back up my throat every time.
I don’t remember how long the fast lasted. Then I began singing strictly what I was praying — songs that I could lift to Him only. That was SO healing. I’m ashamed to admit that it was ever about anything or anyone besides Him before, but I am SO grateful that He brought me into individual worship with Him when I didn’t deserve it at all.
About a week ago, I taught my first class for this year — Girls’ Bible. Though I have 4 other classes, this small group of girls is just amazing. It’s a very special mix and I’m both humbled and astounded by them. GREAT girls! And God led me to share this very, very personal dream with them. Very personal. Very difficult to share. Because they all know what our family does, too.
For the past eight years, I’ve been surrounded by people who can sing FAR better than I can. I am literally in the presence of God-given musical genius everyday. Our whole lives are shaped by this ministry — where we live, where we worship, what we do, how we spend time, why we homeschool. And I have, embarrassingly enough, struggled with my attitude more times than I’d wish to recall. Jealousy screams, “I want YOUR gift!” while envy hisses, “I deserve that gift more that YOU do!” God has definitely, DEFINITELY moved me out of that wasteland (which is not to say that I’ll never be tempted to visit again, but it’s that milk and orange juice at 90 degrees principle), but I still struggled to understand why God would have placed such a desire on my heart — or, if it didn’t come from Him, why He didn’t take it away when I asked Him to or didn’t snatch it away despite my “me.”
Last week, in front of those 8 young women, God suddenly — and shockingly — put all the pieces together. And I told them exactly what He was telling me:
I had that dream when I was 15 because He knew that in less than a decade, we would be the beginning stages of what has literally become an international ministry. He placed that desire on my heart as a vision for the future — no, He didn’t flesh it out right then, and He certainly didn’t use me to get it done, but He gave me the gift of both enjoying the dream and then seeing it realized and moving towards Him. And, I told the girls, I don’t know what each of them holds in that very tender place in their hearts, what their dream is (“When you say ‘I want to do THAT,’ what is your ‘THAT’?”), but I know that it isn’t there to be laughed at by others, to be denied by circumstances, or to be derided by the enemy who seeks to steal the delight of the dream, to kill any hopes of achieving the dream, and to destroy any Kingdom purpose for the dream. “THAT” dream is planted in their “little girl” hearts to be used by an All-Loving Father who longs to involve them — individually — in the ministry of reconciliation to bring ALL His children to Himself to His honor and His praise.
So, my friends, I lay it before you: my “that” is singing. I’m not bad at it, but I’m also not a professional. I know several who are, and my job is to pray for them, love them, minister to their families, pitch in when I’m needed, and be grateful for the gift of the dream.
18 years was a long wait. He was probably trying to tell me in 3. But if it means I won’t miss another dream again, I’m ok.
Father God, You are so amazing…
You know my heart, LORD, because You formed it. LORD, forgive me for misusing the gift and the dream that You’ve given me. I’m so sorry, LORD. I just want You to use me.
And yes, LORD, I admit I want to sing. And shamefully, I admit I want human approval for it. I want to hear “Well done” from the wrong voices, therefore, I pray You temper and direct my own. Truly, You are my Audience of One. And I thank You.
God, this isn’t easy to lay down. You and I know that this dream is the flagship for ALL my unrealistic expectations and anxieties. Father, You assure me that hope doesn’t disappoint; would You please forgive me for driving the nails in Your Son’s hands because I didn’t choose hope the first time? I don’t know where to go from here. I’m just sorry, and I just want to be used. THANK YOU for Your gift in revealing Your purpose in this dream — You are Sovereign, and You certainly didn’t have to do that! Please give me wisdom to embrace the dreams You give with the purposes for which You created them.
LORD, I love You. I don’t deserve You… never can… but I love You. Please forgive me…
AMEN.
I didn’t wake you up early and feed you homemade pancakes.
I didn’t dress you up in an adorable new outfit and spiffy new shoes.
I didn’t pack you a lunch or a backpack.
I didn’t wait with you for a big yellow bus, nor did I drop you off at the carpool line.
I didn’t cry this morning.
I didn’t miss you throughout the day.
I didn’t show up 20 minutes early for release.
Why? Because…
I covered your sleepy eyes when you crawled in our bed this morning.
I read you the story of Pentecost during our worship time.
I fed you a big bowl of “different colors” Cheerios and a glass of soy milk 
I had you count sheep in the story book.
I smiled at the big leaps your yellow and green pony took from chair to chair.
I picked up thrice-read library books from the floor.
I took you with me to the chiropractor where you learned about your spine.
I watched you “read” your own book to your stuffed animals and dolls.
I listened as you told knock-knock jokes and played eye-spy
I laughed as you danced on the driveway and shot up your little rubber bouncy ball.
I applauded as you learned how to spell “limb” from random letters.
I cried a little when I went in to kiss your forehead one more time tonight.
THANK YOU for being here so I get to watch you learn!
LORD, Jesus, my Savior, my God –
Having these precious ones home for school is such a GIFT; Thank You for graciously providing the means to enable it, the courage to dare what feels so uncommon, and the most WONDERFUL little people to attempt it with.
Father, I know that You are Sovereign, and this may not be a full 13 year venture. Please give D and me ears to hear You clearly and hearts quick to obey wherever You call us, especially in the training of these two precious ones. And please give me the insight everyday to never, NEVER take these moments for granted!
We love You, LORD!
Amen.
Baby woman tiny in stature now, but you heart is a treasure
Little princess come follow behind, now
I am reaching for you Elliana
(Chorus)
God has answered my prayers
Elliana
God will concur my fears
To mother a daughter
To look you in the eye
To know that I did everything to walk with you in life
To give you to Jesus that he will in part
The wisdom that I long for to mother your heart
Elliana
God has answered my prayers
There will be others to lead and to guide, girl
But only one you’ll call mother
The honor is all mine to show what a woman’s like
I’m so glad your mine
Elliana
(Chorus)
God has answered my prayers
Elliana
God will concur my fears
To mother a daughter
To look you in the eye
To know that I did everything to walk with you in life
To give you to Jesus that he will in part
The wisdom that I long for to mother your heart
Elliana
God has answered my prayers
Oh, the tenderness of God is twirling around in our living room tonight
Oh, lighten up your daddy’s eyes
And know that he just wants to freeze you in time
Elliana
God will concur our fears
To care for a daughter
To look in the eye
To know that we did everything to walk with you in life
To give you to Jesus, that he will in part
The wisdom that we long for to love your little heart
Elliana
Oh, Princess… the joy of my life, the delight of my heart, the reason I breathe, I LOVE YOU!!! There are SO many things I want to teach you, so much to show you, only because being with you is the sweetest part of my life. I love you, and I love Jesus, and so I give you to Him everyday because He can do for you exceedingly beyond my prayers. There is nothing more precious to me on this earth than you — your sweet little arms around my neck, your bubbling laughter, your pure little prayers to a pure Holy God. I love you, Little One! You are Mommy’s delight!
* “Elliana’s Song” by Watermark
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