I had made the decision to go to my church’s Wednesday night worship service. I was nervous about going because I would have my five year old with me. I wanted to dig deeper into God’s presence, but I wasn’t exactly sure how that was going to work while keeping an eye on my active, doesn’t sit still for long son Asher. With a bag of books packed, I settled nervously into the back row.
The music started and things were going okay. Asher was being pretty chill and I was able to breathe and I started to lose myself in the music. He did okay, but as the evening went on, he started to get restless. I was beginning to hear those critical voices in my head that tell me I’m a bad mom, that my kid should know how to sit still, that I must being doing something wrong as a parent. I know that I am not alone in facing that inner critic.
I had a choice to make. I could take Asher home. I could do the whisper yell and tell him to smarten up, OR I could sit down next to him and engage in worship on his level (which at that moment was sprawled out on the floor). I chose to swallow my pride and get down on the floor with my boy. We talked to Jesus together and then he snuggled onto my lap. I was happy, my mama heart was full, but my Daddy God had more in store for us.
The band started to sing the final song. It was “King of My Heart”, which is one of my personal favourites and is a song that Asher happens to know as well. We were still sitting snuggled together and enjoying the moment. I asked him if he wanted to stand and sing and he said yes. As we stood, I had one hand raised and the other on my heart enjoying the sweet spirit that was in the room. I looked down briefly and there was Asher, one hand raised and the other on his heart singing for all he was worth.
Let the King of my heart
Be the wind inside my sails
The anchor in the waves
Oh oh, He is my song
Let the King of my heart
Be the fire inside my veins
The echo of my days
Oh, He is my song
King of My Heart, John Mark McMillan, Sarah McMillan
It was at that moment the ugly, critical voices began to recede. In that moment I was humbled and so incredibly grateful to see my boy mirroring my actions in worship. I am not a perfect mom. I do not have perfect children, nor are they well behaved in public all the time. I do not always set an example that I want my kids to follow. But God spoke to me in that moment. I was overwhelmed with love as I watched Asher worship. I felt the Lord saying to me, “That love that you feel is just a fraction of the love that I feel when I see you, my child, worshiping Me”.
I know that it is often said that God loves it when His people worship Him, but I never really understood what that meant. It was watching Asher and feeling overwhelming joy and love for that little man as he worshiped that opened my eyes to begin to understand what the Daddy heart of God feels, when I, His child worship with abandon. It is overwhelming. It is humbling, It is love.