Make a joyful noise.
It was as if he knew.
Big blue eyes stare down at chubby fingers with wonder. “These are my hands?” They reach, grasp, hold. He always seems amazed at just what his little fingers can do, as if each time he grabs his red block it is the first time. So much wonder in a child. Eight months new, and everything fresh, real, alarming.
So when two little hands first meet, finding each other, clapping – instant surprise, immediate joy.
It was as if he knew… that this is what his hands were made for. His first applause – for who? His joy, giggles – for what audience?
These little hands, so perfectly crafted, ten grasping fingers, palms outstretched, give praise back to the One who made them. These hands – his hands – were made to worship. He must know.
Know what I must relearn daily, hourly. That this body is not mine. This vessel, meant to be used. Intended for great joy. Intended for worship. A child discovers they can make a noise, and it is filled with joy. When he sees that his hands can come together, make noise, and do it all over again, he finds joy so freely, so simply.
How can I praise you, my King? When my hands come together, do I smile at the sound of it, knowing You receive some glory in my living as I was intended to live? My life worshipping as it was made to worship?
Teach me, child, your simple joy. Let us worship our Maker, together.