“Celebrate,” he belted out, swinging his right arm in an arc, palm face forward
in a Wal-Mart aisle, walking beside his dad.
“Rejoice,” left arm, swinging in an arc, palm face forward.
Both arms held in a V – just waiting. . . waiting for the right count . . .
“Exalt the name of the Lord,” and his arms shimmied upward, reaching high, words to the rest of the song following.
Little boy singing uninhibited of His Lord, a song from his church musical – overflowing
in Wal-Mart.
My husband smiled, telling me about it – part proud, part sheepish about this boisterous, out-loud
singing of a little boys heart
celebrating the Father
throughout Wal-Mart
His dad didn’t tell him to stop, though – he let it just flow out –
an odd little smile on his face in the telling – an odd smile that I remember today, making me think it was a moment to be stored for days where faith needed remembering
little boy letting out his song
his faith song
planted something deep
with roots reaching
that wouldn’t be so hard to pull out
when the hard times came
the teen times
““For there is hope for a tree,
When it is cut down, that it will sprout again,
And its shoots will not fail.
8 “Though its roots grow old in the ground
And its stump dies in the dry soil,
9 At the scent of water it will flourish
And put forth sprigs like a plant.” (Job 14: 7-9)
and something that once bloomed, was cut to the stump, like my hydrangea
when we transplanted last year
and it looked so lost, nothing but dry sticks through April, May, June, July –
“Just wait,” my husband said. “It will grow back.”
and so I waited, making myself hope, making myself believe
that we did it right
then one August evening, we saw a little green, pea-sized
on a dead-looking branch
Hundreds of days later, this Saturday morning, it stood under my kitchen window, stems and leaves growing tall, strong – not blooming yet but emerging with new life
My prayer to Jehovah-Raah – the Lord my Shepherd, is and has been that none will be lost – and he told me in His word, and all around me –
His creation showing me His promise –
whispering it in the stories of their roots, their leaves, their blooms
My transplanted hydrangea, the butterfly bush, the knock-out rose, the yellow flowering shrub without a name – they told me the story to encourage my belief. . . my hope. . .to trust
the story of the root of Jesse that was cut down by the world that sought to destroy it
and yet it survived – it was as though the trees, flowers and bushes were putting on a remembrance play in my yard, daily for hundreds of days.
I think really, it was a play going on long before I heard it, read it, watched it – since before I was born, even before Eve took the bite of the apple – the play, the chorus was in creation.
“A shoot will come up from the stump of Jesse; from his roots a Branch will bear fruit” (Isaiah 11:1)
God does not forget the roots planted deep in little boy hearts
His word tells of the salvation story of the root of Jesse who died on a tree so that we may live
that He came to die to save us
to save us from missing it
walking away from it
losing it
getting lost from it
but the root remembers
and wants to be found
by
Jehovah-Raah – the Lord my Shepherd,
who pursues
every
lost lamb
who pursues to bring
every root back into the light
shoot through the darkness
into the light
to leaf
to bloom
to become as He designed
Looking at those sticks last year – it was a chorus in my yard – a message of hope
to rejoice in the pea-size
to do the dance of joy over that pea-size dot of green
and wait
because growing to bloom takes God time
and today – its leaves are bursting green
If you have a teen/young adult who is struggling with good choices – remember the seeds you’ve planted, the roots that have grown deep – God remembers – remind Him, stand in faith on them – just because you don’t see the evidence of them does not mean they are not there.
Jehovah-Raah – the Lord my Shepherd, though, is already pursuing, searching, working to restore – you might not see it – but He does.
“Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1)
Little boy and little girl voices bursting in faith songs in Wal-Mart aisles are not forgotten by Him, the God who is my Shepherd.
Top 10 Unconditional Love Rules
The Runaway’s Hope in a God-Made Ladder
Still Counting Gifts with Ann at a Holy Experience:
- sharing Sfogliatelle over Friday lunch with my husband
- 6 a.m. Tues/Thurs workouts outside at my house with a friend
- compliments on the work-ethic of my sons
- 2 boys deciding to apply for phlebotomy training and the other radiologic technologist because they do not want to take the traditional route through college
- my second son and his girlfriend standing beside me in church
- and coming to the house to grill afterwards and sit talking over the table
- rain fall, rain drops on an at-home day where I can just be blessed – rain is like God saying to me, “Slow down. Relax. Just let it wash your spirit clean.”
- each random smile from each random son – at the top of the stairs, across the dinner table, laying across the porch settee, arms wrapped around the puppy – in the rear view mirror – each makes my heart smile right back!
- evidence of Jehovah-Raah pursuing each of my sons – evidence of the holy shepherd leading them home
Hi Maryleigh, I am so glad I came over this morning to read your post. Such an encouragement to me as my girls 18 and 20 start to make their own way. they love the Lord, and seeds have been planted, but watching them plod along and make choices is hard. Trusting that those seeds planted remain true and firm and stick and grow and flourish. Great post my friend
God bless
Tracy
Thanks for joining our momma notes. You are an encouragement to me and countless other moms. We would be delighted to have you link up this post or another again.
Monday … join the melody.
Simply slip your post into the link up. You can grab the button if you would like as well. I’ll start the splash on Mondays. And I know the filled to the brim momma schedules … so join us any day of the week and link up.
Happy day,
Sarah
Oh, this makes me happy. God does not forget what he plants, no. Last year I transplanted my hydrangea too and it is still tiny but has finally started getting more green on it. I’ll think of you as I watch it grow.
Oh, this is so beautiful! The root of the stump of Jesse blooming into many blooms! I have never thought of it this way. I have found that only as I die to ,y own ways and efforts, does the life of our Lord Jesus shine through. Yes, a little child shall lead them.
Much love XX
Mia
What a sweet boy your son is. I love that he was singing to the Lord in Walmart! I’m so glad that your hydrangea is coming back. I love those flowers but they are hard to grow in Arizona. I have some silk hydrangeas on my table but it’s just not the same as the real thing. So glad I stopped by to read your thankful list.
I also wanted to thank you for your visits and comments on Heart Choices. I really appreciate them.
Blessings and love,
Debbie
http://www.heartchoices.com/2013/06/laughter-is-best-medicine.html
Oh, my just look at that hydrangea! What a beautiful visual of how beauty and growth sometimes takes a little while to be seen.
Blessings to you this day!
Deep roots … for me and my boys.
Thanks for joining the melody this week. I would be delighted to have you add your voice each week. I jot some momma notes on Monday … but its a post whenever you can during the week kind of link up. I get the filled to the brim momma schedules.
Happy day,
Sarah
http://justsarahdawn.blogspot.com/2013/05/momma-notes.html
Maryleigh,
My hydrangea also looked so dead so I can relate…oh, the living metaphor God gives us when we see new green leaves then glorious blue blooms…what a sweet picture of your sons smiling at you…so sweet 🙂
Lovely blue cotton memories…really enjoyed poking around your blog. I raised three sons into men as a single mom and have plenty of stories too, from a slightly different perspective perhaps 🙂 I was wistful today and posted about all the fun the four of us had together during summer break and how the only thing more fleeting than summer is … childhood. Looking forward to visiting here again…
Lovely blue cotton memories…really enjoyed poking around your blog. I raised three sons into men as a single mom and have plenty of stories too, from a slightly different perspective perhaps 🙂 I was wistful today and posted about all the fun the four of us had together during summer break and how the only thing more fleeting than summer is … childhood. Looking forward to visiting back here…
Wish he’d been in *my* Walmart singing; I could use that while I’m there. 🙂 I suppose I could just do it myself though, huh? Love this story.
“Just wait” – I love that. It’s hard to do in a fast paced society but parenting God’s way doesn’t cut any corners does it? Love it how truth comes out of the mouth of babes.