Singing it again

It was such a little thing but I can't get it out of my mind.

"I liked that song. I liked it a lot. Can we sing it again?" He's five and he loves music and something about this song caught his attention. The pastor/worship leader/guitar player/man of so many hats chuckled at the request.

But I'm a mother and I shushed him because that's what we do when our children speak out of turn, we blush and shush and worry about what everyone around us must think. Our children always seem so much more unruly to us than they do to everyone else, don't they?

The worship continued, next song, words projected onto the walls. I swayed with my baby in my arms. I've been swaying for the past five years, catch myself moving back and forth, back and forth, in line at the grocery store and the bank, just swaying even when I don't have a little one with me. So I swayed and sang and we carried on.

But at the end, someone spoke up, "let's sing that first one again, remember? He wanted to sing it again." Slides flashed by, back to the beginning of the set, and that man of many hats began strumming his guitar again.

They sang that song again just for my boy, my sweet music lover, and it was such a little thing but I can't get it out of my mind. I remember and my eyes well up every time, every single time, it's been two weeks now. Such a small kindness and yet so big when you're five, to be noticed and heard and valued.

And I guess that's how I know we're exactly where we're supposed to be each Sunday.