O Lord, years ago, this little guy declared his blue Play-Doh snake was bigger than God. Upon further reflection, though, he decided that no, the thing he’d made wasn’t nearly as big as the God of the universe.
OMG, thank You that he continues to mold his life with that wisdom!
Jesus, You Know our washer roars like a rocket launch during its spin cycle.
Our microwave’s “done” beep sounds like a threefold BLEEP.
Our car’s alarm probably will never go off amid a theft; no, it brays like a dinosaur-sized donkey whenever my husband dares pull a quarter from his pocket.
OMG, how can I be still and know You
when my world won’t shut up?
O Lord, like birthdays we’d rather forget …
Road construction happens every year.
But OMG, You’re right, as always. What if both never showed up?
O Lord, You know I’ve griped at two rosebushes because they refused to bloom. Lately, I’ve threatened, “Bloom, or I’ll feed you to the compost pile!” Finally, I consulted rose-raising directions … and discovered I’d been subjecting the bushes to feeding famine.
Likewise, OMG, if I go to You, the Expert, and read Your Directions, I might discover that smart nurturing, rather than negativity, will bud beauty in others.
Some elementary classmates considered choir cruel and unusual punishment. Not me. Although stuck in the back row because of my height, I didn’t permit boys’ cooties to lessen my joy in music. I grew up singing.
As an adult, I directed my church choir. We developed spiritual closeness and musical mental telepathy … that didn’t transfer to sitting/standing together. I’ve never seen another choir do the wave every Sunday. Still, we sang with gladness and authenticity.
After moving, my husband and I joined a large church with a bigger choir and classically trained director. How I missed old friends! But now I didn’t direct while belting out alto and/or tenor to compensate for members lost to the flu du jour. I sang my natural soprano!
However, our director discovered my past. Would I substitute for him? I attempted the game all God’s people, beginning with Moses, play: Ask Somebody Else.
Other directors weren’t available.
The director believed in miracles. He also promised his compassionate pianist would cover my back.
O-kay.
What to wear? Often, seams split and zippers opened as I conducted. In the past, arm motion sent shoulder pads traveling. Once, I appeared to grow a bust on my back.
Wardrobe decided, I caught cold. While I directed, would God send an angel to wipe my nose?
What if singers didn’t show? Without them, I was only a crazy woman waving her arms.
They came, though. A row of Bach’s descendants gave me the eye.
We practiced well, but questions erupted about missing music, standing up, sitting down …
“Only God is infinite.” I answered. “Ask Him!”
When I stepped up to direct, congregational eyebrows rose. But it wasn’t about me. Or anyone else.
We worshipped an audience of One: Jesus. All who lifted heartfelt praises to Christ belonged.
In His choir, nobody has cooties.
Your Extraordinary Ordinary: How do you deal with feelings of inadequacy?