We're sitting at the lunch table today talking scripture. She's heard I'm reading the entire bible this year and she wants to know just how I'm doing it. I smile because there is no plan really. I tell her about the cool app where you can check off the books and chapters you've read and how I'm not reading it front to back. This young woman I've watched grow from a toddler leans in and asks, "But how do you know which book is where?"
"I started seriously studying God's word when I was about your age." I said. "After a while you just know."
Our speaker tonight talks about running to the light of God's word. How it is our map and compass and GPS... our guide book. She invites kids to come and share God's word as He places it on their hearts. The line forms and something incredible happens. Campers begin to line up and share God's word with His people. At first I wondered about the length of the service... thinking this might go on all night. I hear Him whisper, "what if it does?" In that moment my perspective shifted. When did I decide worship needs to fit in my time frame?
I'm reminded of a scripture in Ephesians. It talks about Jesus giving himself up for the church, making her holy, "cleansing her by the washing with water through the word." Worship this evening was a washing of sorts. As each child read, His words flowed over me in power. All the cares of my life... the ones that of sort of tamped down my passion have been washed away. His word read by His children have reaffirmed what began in me so long ago. It happens every year in some way at Lakeview... God reaching down and reminding me who I am and whose I am.
The young boy kneels in the "prayer zone" and wipes tears from his eyes. I gently lay my hand on his shoulder, "Is there something you want me to pray with you about?" He looks up and replies, "I'm just so happy."
Me too, my little friend.
Me.
Too.
