Sometimes she grabs her tap shoes and taps around the piano.
Sometimes she makes up new words.
Always, she inspires me to simply worship exactly where I am.
One night, I was playing a song that she liked (though, she pretty much claims every song as her favourite, so who knows) and she commented that I was playing it differently. At that moment, I was trying to sneak in some genuine practice for the following Sunday. I was playing my actual lines along with the chords, because I knew on Sunday I wouldn't be playing the chords - simply little melodic lines.
She asked why I was playing them.
I explained how on a typical Sunday on worship team, I don't play the same way I do with her. The other instruments play their lines and I play mine. I showed her what I played, and asked if she'd ever heard it that way during church.
She looked at me and said: Oh, that makes sense. We all have a part to play.
For whatever reason, I grabbed her into my arms and gave her a big hug.
Her words were so poignant to my heart in that moment.
I'm in a interesting new season right now. I live with a family, work as a nanny, babysit my niece, most of my evenings are filled with a Bible study or a community group, a worship practice, and if I'm having a good week, time with friends as well. It still feels new, and it's not where I expected my life to look like at this point.
But I am playing a part. It's a new part, a new line, a new melody.
On a day filled with grace filled conversation (it was a Sunday where I'd met a friend for coffee before church, gone to church, had good chats in the sanctuary after church, went out for tea with a friend, met friends via video chat, and had met this sweet friend for some singing. It was a good and fully wonderful day), it was this exchange with my dear 6 year old friend that impacted my heart.
It's easy for me to want to play all the roles, or to play the main one, the main chords that drive the song. Or to think that the line I've been given won't make the song sound right. But sometimes, in some seasons, for reasons that only God knows, we get to play little melodies. These lines are important, and songs are made beautiful because of them, but if they're played on their own, they feel a bit small.
That's why we need community, why we need to listen well to know when to play, and why we need our 6 year old friends to whisper truth to us on the days when we've forgotten.
Have you had a conversation lately with somebody that wasn't meant to be spiritual but ended up all together encouraging your weary soul? I'd love to hear.
