I was tempted to sit down at my computer on the dining room table before church. Isn’t church enough time with God this morning, I wondered?, while I considered foregoing my usual quiet time.
I picked up my big steaming mug of coffee from the counter and glanced at the pages spread out across the table. I’m almost finished with the edits, I thought, but walked past, gathered up my glasses, Bible, pen and pencil, devotional and prayer book instead (I know, it’s an armful) and took a seat on the front porch.
The scent of the blueberry muffins in the oven mixed with the summer morning breeze and bird songs. “I want my life to be a song of worship.” Hadn’t I just prayed that?
As the wind shook the leaves on the over-arching trees, the chorus of chirps accompanied, creating an orchestral-like interlude, setting the tone to open my heart. I opened my Bible.
“A psalm. A song. For the Sabbath day.”
How attentive is my Lord when I choose rightly!
“It is good to praise the LORD and make music to your name, O Most High, to proclaim your love in the morning and your faithfulness at night, to the music of the ten-stringed lyre and the melody of the harp…”
I couldn’t have chosen more descriptive words for what I was experiencing: A song of praise to our God.
“…planted in the house of the LORD, they will flourish in the courts of God. They will still bear fruit in old age, they will stay fresh and green…” (vss. 13 and 14)
What a beautiful thing it is to offer our thanks and know that we are heard.
“Honey!” I hear Todd call from the kitchen. “It’s time to get ready!”
“Okay!” I call back. Like a couple of bird calls, I think.
And this is why I always tend to run a little late…
1 Come, let us sing for joy to the Lord;
let us shout aloud to the Rock of our salvation.
2 Let us come before him with thanksgiving
and extol him with music and song.