My daughter Hope and I were headed to church tonight. She was uncharacteristically quiet and I turned around in our van to notice that she had put her hood up on her jacket and had velcroed the front together around her eyes so that her face was almost completely covered. This did not alarm me as I am used to her dead on impressions of the Pink Power Ranger. I did comment on it, though. I said something like, “Hope, you can’t even see. You are so silly.” At this, my rarely quiet, energetic young child said, “Mommy I am closing my eyes so I can listen to the music.” Then, she sweetly held out her gloved hand to me, offering to share her quiet moment with me. I twisted myself around so that I could drive and hold her hand, not willing to miss this one.
I sometimes think..no, I am often certain that my four year old, with all of her energy and her constant questions has an easier time discerning when life screams for quiet. In that moment, I knew she was absolutely right on. We worshiped together for a few minutes. This, mind you, was not the first time I have worshipped with my little girl, but it was the first time we did in such a way that I heard the quietest whisper of God saying, “Look how good you are doing, mommy.”