This morning, about ten minutes before 9:00, my son, still in early morning slumber called out to me from his bed, "Mom, would you please play the piano?" "Yes," I said. I had signed up for a prayer time from nine until ten this morning for our church's monthly day of 24 hour prayer- a first Thursday of the month assignment. Knowing that time was coming, I sat down at the piano and begin to sing something that began while I was taking a shower. "Let everything that has breath-praise the Lord, praise the Lord..." and it continued, and I played and played and played.
Then Daniel came to me and said, "Mom, it is impossible for anyone to do what you do." The voice of my Lord was coming through my child in that moment. Each one of us is fearfully and wonderfully made. My song to the Lord is Christ expressing Himself through me in a way that no one else can. Or should. A seemingly silent snowflake falls. A song is lifted up to Heaven. Each one is unique and carries the thumbprint of it's Creator. Let everything, everything....that has breath praise the Lord.