Friday, May 29, 2015


Evening meetings here at the Kentucky-Tenn campmeeting had finished.  High above us, the moon shone brightly while clouds scuttled beneath its glow.  The night was quiet all around, save for the excited chatter of people heading for their various places of lodging.  There were about four of us gathered together on a porch with our guitars out, jamming to old favorites like “Go Light Your World” and “Give Them All to Jesus.”  One of the guys had graduated Thunderbird Academy and knew a lot of the friends I had made last summer in Arizona.  The other guy is leading out in a canvassing program here in Nashville this summer and I just met him a couple days ago.  The girl we were with I had met three years ago in a class at Southern, but hadn’t reconnected until this week.  But there we all were together, hardly knowing one another and living different stories, praising and worshipping God through our music.  Random people would join us in singing a song or two before heading off into the night.

And that’s when I met Natalie, a young girl who was there with her mom and two siblings.  She was probably no older than five or six and had the cutest little smile ever.  Wanting to play guitar with me, she sat down by my side and wrapped the strap over her little neck.  While she strummed a rhythm on the strings, I continued to play chords with my left hand as we sang “Here I Am to Worship.”  She grinned excitedly as we played and sang the chorus.  “Here I am to worship, here I am to bow down, here I am to say that you’re my God.”  As I looked at the group around us and then down at the sweet, innocent face of the girl playing beside me, I realized that one of the greatest blessings in our lives is the ability to worship God.  Not because we’re great.  Not because we’re talented.  Not because we have to.  Simply because we love Him with the innocence and fervor of a child.

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