Better than I've Been to my own Self.
An elderly gentleman at a church I attended as a teenager would regularly stand up during testimony time and say, "The Lord's been good to me. Better than I've been to my own self." Tonight, I understood what he meant in a new way.
Per usual, our nighttime routine ended with about 15 rounds of the song, "God is so Good". Only this time, after I put Josiah down in his crib, he continued singing.
Hmm-hmm-hmmmmmm.
Hmm-hmm-hmmmmmm.
Hmm-hmm-hmmmmmm.
Hmm-hmm-hmmmmmm.
Over and over, he hummed rhythm for "is so Good". I sat down to listen. He looked at me around the slats of the crib, reached through, and grabbed my hand. All the while, he continued singing. Such a sweet, impromptu worship service to our good God.
I stayed for a while, reflecting on God's goodness. I hope my little man continues to sing that same anthem every night of his life, from now through eternity.
Eventually, I sneaked out the door. I could still hear him singing as I cleaned up the living room. And I thought: He. Is. So. Good. To. Me.
Far better than I deserve. And better than I've been to my own self.
Per usual, our nighttime routine ended with about 15 rounds of the song, "God is so Good". Only this time, after I put Josiah down in his crib, he continued singing.
Hmm-hmm-hmmmmmm.
Hmm-hmm-hmmmmmm.
Hmm-hmm-hmmmmmm.
Hmm-hmm-hmmmmmm.
Over and over, he hummed rhythm for "is so Good". I sat down to listen. He looked at me around the slats of the crib, reached through, and grabbed my hand. All the while, he continued singing. Such a sweet, impromptu worship service to our good God.
I stayed for a while, reflecting on God's goodness. I hope my little man continues to sing that same anthem every night of his life, from now through eternity.
Eventually, I sneaked out the door. I could still hear him singing as I cleaned up the living room. And I thought: He. Is. So. Good. To. Me.
Far better than I deserve. And better than I've been to my own self.
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