The worship of a child

We were blessed to join the Downtown Church in Searcy, Arkansas for worship Sunday morning. The communion meditation was led by a young father, who used parental wisdom to make an allegory for God’s love for us. He imagined being awakened by his crying son, and entering the room, only for his son to refuse to be held. “I don’t deserve to be held…I have been so bad, so hard on you. Wait until I am a better child, then you can pick me up…” We recognize the absurdity of this parable, but the devotional leader helped us to see the ways in which we do not accept God’s love, and we need to learn a childlike faith.


As the trays were passed, the worship team began singing:

I love you Lord, and I lift my voice,
to worship you, oh my soul rejoice
Take joy my king, in what you hear,
Let me be a sweet, sweet sound in your ear.

The second verse began:

I love you Lord, and I lift my hands,
to worship you, as my soul demands.

I lifted my hands, about chest high. Josiah was standing on Charity’s lap, watching everyone around us. I don’t know if he saw me or saw someone else in the church, but he lifted his hands, as high as he could, standing on his tip-toes, gazing toward the ceiling.

Charity and I were both ministered to by this, and fought off tears, while also fighting off the embarrassment of the growing number of people turning their attention to Josiah, heads turning to see little hands stretched above the crowd. Josiah didn’t notice the attention; he just continued to hold his hands upward.

The song concluded:

Take joy, my King, in what you see.
Let me be a sweet, sweet child, on your knee.