Little voices in my car…

One of the recurring arguments we run into around here is over which music we’ll be listening to in the car. While the Preschooler prefers her songs to be loud and fast, the Toddler is currently more interested in ballads and lullabies, or what you might call easy-listening. Over the summer I searched out a couple of CD’s that I thought might appease both of them and bring some peace and order to our car rides. One of those is a VeggieTales album that I can only handle in small doses {and the Spouse can’t handle at all}. If ever there is a song that you think you could never dislike, I challenge you to let Bob the Tomato, Larry the Cucumber, and Junior Asparagus put their spin on it. The other CD I found, though, is a Cedarmont Kids praise and worship disc that both of the girls enjoy because they recognize most of the songs.

I’ve realized recently that what makes them enjoy one song over another has a lot to do with whether or not they can keep up with the words and the tempo. They don’t want to merely listen to the music, they want to have a full-blown sing-a-long. So, the Cedarmont CD has several songs on it that fit the bill. Songs like “How Great Is Our God,” “Awesome God,” “Every Move I Make,” and a few others.

Some days the music doesn’t seem to really work its magic in terms of bringing calm to the car. But, other days I’ll be driving along and realize that both of the little people in the backseat are singing the lyrics and tune to one of those praise songs as best as their voices know how. And, I know this is going to sound dramatic… but, it’s in that moment that I realize I’m experiencing something pretty special.

Even though the girls don’t know the meaning of all the words they’re singing, and though their melodies are a little uncertain in parts, there’s something so innocent and pure about the voices–especially the singing voices–of children. When you listen to their little lungs belting choruses like…

… It’s as if the listening itself becomes its own unique form of worship. And, somehow it melts away a good bit if not all of the frustration I’ve had with them from earlier in the day. It calms me. It humbles me {suddenly I can recall every ill-chosen word I’ve spoken to them throughout the day}. It changes my perspective. It makes me want to be a better listener… a more patient person… a better example for them. And, it moves me to a place of profound gratitude for the opportunity I have to be their mom.

And, it also makes me think about how casually and carelessly I sing through praise songs and hymns on Sunday mornings. Like the girls, I’m not always understanding the real meaning of the words I’m mouthing. But, maybe to a God of grace, hearing the voices–especially the combined voices–of those He calls his own children is like hearing my girls sing together in the car.

Maybe it moves Him not because it’s perfect in its presentation but because He so loves the people doing the singing.

So, the next time I hear the little voices in my car singing one of those songs I’m going to soak it up and recognize it for what it is… real worship. Simple. Unpretentious. Whole-hearted.  Joyful noise.