Oh God, you are my God, earnestly I seek you.
This girl who didn't say many words when she was little because she had older siblings who used up all the word space in the house, so she sat and watched and listened, and sometimes smiled.
The sparkle in her eye grew brighter as she told me about reading the Psalm. The sixty-third Psalm. How she read it, then she re-read it, and then she read it again.
my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land
where there is no water.
It is just a praise Psalm, Mom, it is just all praise! The words were not enough to try to tell me how great it was for her. She could not express what she felt.
So I have looked upon you in the sanctuary,
beholding your power and glory.
By the third read-through, her words had stopped being black on a page; they spontaneously became her own Psalm, her own song to the Lover of her soul.
Not a quiet song, but one she sang loud and passionately to the One who will never leave or forsake her.
Because your steadfast love is better than life,
my lips will praise you.
It is when this little girl, all grown up, is beautiful because of this love; this love of a Savior. It is when this little girl, all grown up, is drawn to Him in such a powerful way that this Momma knows nothing else matters.
So I will bless you as long as I live;
in Your name I will lift up my hands.
Not one other thing matters.