1990s I Really Don't Know Her Name

It was Sunday morning before church and I was helping my pastor, Joe Durham, prepare for service when she walked up.  We knew who she was - she had visitied a few times (Joe, the genuis, probably remembers the details to this day).  I remember nothing as to whom she came with or her life situation other than that she was a polite and friendly soul.

"I believe that God has given me a song to share today" she stated.
"Well, that's great!  Do you have a tape or an instrument?" Joe replied.

I was thinking, "We don't have time in the service.  We don't know how well she will do..." as she and Joe finalized the few details.

At the appointed time she stood up, walked forward with what looked to be a toy instrument.  It was a plastic, Linus looking instrument that to this day remains unidentifiable to me.  "Oh no! She is going to get so embarassed..." I thought.  She laid this small instrument on the podium top and with a short introduction in a kind of mountain, small town voice she began to play.

It did sound like a toy and her voice was clearly unprofessional but something happened with her first words and first notes.  God smiled on that room.  There is no other way for me to express it.  I have never felt the presence of God so strongly.  I have never sensed, along with an entire church full of people, the peace of that moment.  I had never heard a song so moving or so sweet.  I don't remember one word of the song but I remember the moment when, without one bit of professionalism, a wonderful women lived out the truth that God is listening and that the voice of His children is beautiful to Him. 

She loved God, He had given her a song  and she was to sing it.  There was no question to her and no apology or hesitancy in her actions or request.  It was clear that she understood worship better than most that I had met or would ever meet.   I will never forget those few minutes of my life. I wanted her song to go on forever.  I didn't want it to stop - no one did.  It was the song God wanted sung and its words and music moved us all in Him.  We sat at first silent in awe of God and His presence and then, after that enjoyable moment, burst into applause and audible joy.

For years I thought the greatest message to me in this unforgettable moment was that the right song in the right moment in the right Spirit sung to God is better than the best and most professional of choirs or bands.   Yes, it is a truth we all state but a truth that few churches are willing to trust.  I thought that the greatest message for me was that I should always seek to bring my best but not worry about embarassment or man's perception of quality such that I would not do or bring what He wanted.

However, the greatest truth for me, though, was found in the Spirit as I wrote this short memoir - she was not trying to make a point or teach a lesson.  She was simply doing what her Father told her to do and worshipping Him.  She was living with Him and was given a song.  She was living with Him as he taught her its words and notes.  She was living in worship of Him as she sang it the first time.  She was listening to Him when He told her to share it with us.  She was loving him and following Him as she sang it.  She knew in whom she had believed.  She was a living definition of true service.

Blessed are those who seek God in every moment for they are prepared in every moment that He calls them because in every moment they are in Him.  A willing servant loves his master, lives with Him, listens to Him, finds joy in working for Him, is willing just to sit and wait for Him, and will always be found loyal to Him.  I was blessed that day but she was blessed far more for many days before.  Her offering was just one more outpouring of a life lived well - it was not one moment of glory or inspiration.