Looking around the room all I saw was toddlers and mess. It was my first Sunday as a nursery worker at our new church. I couldn’t believe they trusted me with six 4 year olds but they were shorthanded so most the classes only had one teacher. Once I settled in, I was fine. They ate snack while I read a bible story. Then we colored, played and had a few tears (them not me).
In some ways the hour seemed to drag along but in other it sped by. Soon mommies and daddies would be coming to pick up their little angels. I wanted to make a good impression. I created a little game to have all the toys picked up. Then I sat each one down to wash their hand and faces. In order to occupy them all while I tended to one I had them start singing. It had been a long time since I had sang church nursery songs so I wasn’t sure which ones to do. After finishing a few oldie but goodies, I switched it up and began sing The Wheels on the Bus. I had not even finished the first verse when a cute little blond sweetly tapped me on the hip. “Ms. Amy, Can you please stop singing? You are hurting my ears?”
I have always dreamed of being able to sing. Not Nashville or American Idol kind of dreams. Just dreams of being able to carry a tune that wouldn’t make other cringe. See, I knew God had not given me the gift of song or rhythm either to be honest. However, it was that day that the words of a little 4 year old caused me to stop sings – at all – even praises to God.
My silence remained until years later when a song filled a church and opened not my mouth but my heart. While sitting in a small church far from the nursery of earlier, I heard the words to Arise My Love and I realize all that Christ did for me. To save me. I knew no matter how off key or out of tune I was, He was worthy of my praises.