Twice this last weekend, I selected a seat in Cullen Auditorium that would give me the greatest vantage point for watching our church children’s musical. For most of the last twenty years, talented, dedicated adults have focused a good portion of their autumn lives on selecting, rehearsing and producing these extravaganzas with our little ones. I applaud them — not with the tongue-in-cheek attitude of “they should be blessed because they’ve had to deal with all those kids.” No, I applaud them because of the incredible ministry they have.
The purpose of the annual event is to allow our children to tell the story of Jesus. And they do that with passion and ability that far surpasses their few years. But another reason for the musical is for these wonderful adults to tell the story of Jesus to these kids through the everyday business of a Christmas program.
During the first matinee, I videotaped the close-up performance of my granddaughter. Sure, there was a larger story — and an official DVD being shot with a wider lens — but my focus was Landrye. I was thrilled to watch her give serious attention to the cues from the directors and to carefully do her part. She really took care of business.
But what brought me to tears, both at the performance and as I sat editing the video that night, was watching her sing, “Tell Me the Story of Jesus.” I don’t know what she may face in her life — what challenges, what opportunities, what sadness, what opportunities. But I know that her song — her request — to hear about Jesus is and will be the most important business she can ever be about.
When she sang, it was if she were singing to me. I just hope that I can take care of business. I pray that, to my dying breath, I can tell her the story of Jesus.