Grandma Was Right

When I was little (think terms of age six, not a size six), Sunday mornings meant a trip to children’s church. A whiff of crayons, hairspray or Kool-aid will bring back a rush of memories for me. Those were the days of felt board bible lessons and singing songs with hand motions to help us learn our memory verses.

One song in particular, His Banner Over Me is Love, recently came to mind. I was in a car accident last fall and had surgery in late January to repair an injury. At 2am on the third day after surgery, I woke in the hospital humming that song. Alone, in pain and in the dark, with no felt board in sight, it seemed natural to remind myself that I serve a God who loves me.

Five years ago, in April 2017, I was in a similar situation and I couldn’t remember one encouraging song when I needed it most. With broken ribs, bound by zip ties and duct tape, I was being transported in my kidnapper’s truck at 2am. I couldn’t think of one tune or lyric to comfort me. Weird, huh? Especially when so many old hymns and modern worship songs could have easily applied to my situation. He Set Me Free for example would have been appropriate although I only know the first, second and last verses (lol). It was five days after the rescue before I could remember such songs. It was two weeks before I could bring myself to sing again. Shock and trauma do strange things. But, hang on a minute.

Don’t think for a minute that music is the only way to peace. Prayer, my friend, is the sweetest tune we can sing.
I was taught there is power in prayer. My grandmother used to say, “It puts the devil on the run!” Pastor Craig Groeschel of Life Church says, “We are strengthened when we pray.” I may not have remembered any songs on that horrible night, but I definitely remembered how to pray. And I don’t mean an eloquent, articulate prayer carefully crafted to be grammatically correct. Nope. I prayed a prayer of desperation and gratitude.

I asked for very specific help in the form of two warrior angels. I also followed-up with sincere thankfulness for the wonderful life I had been given because, well the reality is, bad things happen to good people. I knew it was possible this night would turn into a 20/20 episode, someday. Fortunately, it was in God’s plan to deliver me and he showed up in a BIG way with warriors. First, with two police officers from Arkansas, then two police detectives from Oklahoma, then two victim advocates to guide me through the next five years and the list goes on. Grandma was right, wasn’t she always?

Regardless of how you choose to praise, worship, ask for help or give thanks, rest assured, all of heaven hears you…with or without the hand motions.