Singin'

I am shy.

I admit it. Freely. It’s better to just get that out in the open, for I struggle daily to move beyond my safe place and into that arena of mild discomfort, riddled with the pitfalls of drawing a blank and saying the wrong thing.

But God must have thought I needed a giant shove nudge. He has given me two sons who redefine the boundaries of my comfort zone minute by minute; one such moment occurred during dinner while we were on vacation last fall, visiting my husband's sister.

“So, what are you two going to sing?”

The waiter leaned over the booth and ruffled Micah’s hair.

“Sing?” my husband asked.

“Sure – they can stand up on the bar and sing a song, and we’ll give ‘em a card for free drinks-er-soda for the rest of their lives!”

Corban and Micah looked at us excitedly.

“Can we, Mama, can we, Daddy?” Corban begged. My husband smiled at him and said, “Of course!” I caved in on myself. Are you kidding? Stand up on that bar and sing a song in front of (gasp) people? I could never. Not now. Not ever.

For the rest of the meal at O’Dougherty’s Irish Pub in downtown Spokane, Corban and Micah whispered to each other. Visions of silly nonsense songs I’ve composed being sung to the entire restaurant flitted through my mind, but I fought the urge to offer suggestions of “suitable” material, and I even refrained from asking repeatedly, “Are you sure you want to do this? There are going to be people watching you, did you know that?”

When our fish and chips, Irish stew and soda bread were finished, we gathered up the stroller, jackets, toys and sippy cups, heading to the bar by the door. There were only about six people gathered around it, all eating quietly and not really looking up. Until…

“We’ve got a treat for you today, folks! Corban and Micah are going to sing you a song!” And the waiter swung first Micah, and then Corban up onto the wooden countertop.

I frantically grabbed for our camera, my heart pounding. My hands shook as I opened the lens, avoiding looking at anyone but my boys. I prayed silently, God, please don’t let them be humiliated!

There was a pause as they conferred in a whisper, and then, the sweetest sound fell on my anxious ears.

Oh God, you are my God,
And I will ever praise You!
Oh God, you are my God,
And I will ever praise You!

I will seek you in the morning,
And I will learn to walk in Your ways,
And step by step You’ll lead me,
And I will follow you all of my days!

And I will follow You all of my days,
And I will follow You all of my days,
And step by step, You’ll lead me,
And I will follow You all of my days!

From the top of that sticky wooden bar, surrounded by half a dozen people, praise to the God of creation flowed. A declaration of two little boys’ faith, seven and four; they knew no shame, and at the top of their lungs, off key, off meter, they belted out the words to their favorite worship song.

I looked at my husband out of the corner of my eye; yes, he was crying, too. He caught my eye and laughed through his tears.

See, Beloved? They sing when you cannot. But teach them. Lead them. And they will only grow in their boldness.

I know I don’t need to stand up on a bar to proclaim my love for Jesus. I don’t even need to sing. But I do need that nudge once in awhile. I freely admit it.

Pulling my boys down from the counter afterwards, I looked in their eyes to see what was there – but instead of relief, disappointment in their performance, or even pride, I simply saw… happiness.

We left the restaurant, and Corban grabbed his daddy’s hand as they walked ahead of me, but I could still hear their words.

“Corban, I am so proud of you! You just told those people about your love for God!”

And Corban said, “Really? I was just singin’!”

Whether we're talkin’, or singin’, or even just livin’, may our love for God and His love for all of us be as evident as if we were singing it from the mountaintops. Or a wooden countertop.

“O, Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare Your praise.” (Psalm 51:15)

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