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The Saturday Journal: These Tiny Voices (and a video--a must watch)

It never fails.  I can count on it– one, two, maybe even three times–I’m sitting on the edge of my seat–mesmerized by a song–a dance. And it happens and I’ll pull out my phone or my journal and take down a few words of the song–to remember later.  


Tiny Voice


That was the name of the song the dancer chose. Written by songwriters Stephen Nelson, Lexi Walker and Anjanette Micklesen and part of the lyrics goes like this…


"Are you listening?

Or are you looking away?

I've been waiting for a chance to say

My unsaid opinion

That's never made a sound

But if you'll let me let it out

This tiny voice

It may not be perfect

But I know that its got some good things to say

A tiny voice humble and quiet

Don't turn away from a tiny voice"



She squeezed her Mama’s hand tightly.  She knows the drill all too well.  Her Daddy’s been transferred again to a new base. And for her, another new school–another new teacher–another classroom full of staring eyes–strangers. 


“Good morning, Beth,” Miss Johnson says.  “We’re so excited to have you at our school and in our classroom.  We know you will love it here. We have a special desk just for you. And Beth, since you are new to our school and to our class–I will ask a different student each day to sit with you during lunch to show you around–get to know you and you, know them.


“Now class, which one would like to be Beth’s lunch buddy for today?” 


Savannah raised her hand high. “I’ll be her lunch buddy today, Miss Johnson.” 


“Wonderful, thank you Savannah.” 


This was not like other schools, Beth thought.  And she wasn’t too sure about sitting with Savannah at lunch or any of the other kids for that matter.  Why can’t I just be by myself–like before-at the other schools? 


The lunch bell rang and Savannah ran over to Beth.  “Let’s go! We are having chicken nuggets and french fries!  My favorite!!” 


Beth sat in silence for a little while, nibbling on her fries. Savannah was enjoying every bite of her lunch, not taking a breath really to talk much and Beth was happy about that.  But she did wonder, and finally got up the nerve to ask, “Savannah, why did you volunteer first–to be my lunch buddy?” 


And Savannah, smiling–milk outlining her lips like a crown, she says, “I like to always be first to make a new friend. And during recess, we play soccer sometimes–you can be on my team. Where did you say you lived before?  What’s your favorite color? Maybe Miss Johnson will let us sit together again tomorrow.” 



The conversation went like this…he, a child, and her, an older lady. 


He whispers, ‘How do you feel Jesus in your heart?’


“It’s a warmth,” she replies. 


“Like when I grip my hand? Make a fist?” he asks. 


She says, “Yes, like that. You feel clean.


“You feel loved and you feel love for others.


“You know He’s there even though you can’t see Him. There's no doubt.


“You have this faith–that He is who He says He is–He’s God’s Son.


He sits there for a minute, and then says, “And no one is perfect, right? No one but Jesus.” 


“Exactly!” and she explains, “We make wrong choices sometimes. We try as hard as we can but it’s difficult. We struggle. But we also know He will forgive us as long as we ask for forgiveness. And then we’ll try again tomorrow.”




Her Mama says sometimes while driving she’ll look in the backseat and her daughter–she’s in tears. And she’ll ask why–and her daughter will describe a person she just saw–walking on the side of the road. 


And another story she tells of her tender-hearted daughter sitting in church and she glances over, and tears are rolling down her cheek. She whispers, what’s wrong?  And her daughter points to this woman–now a widow a few pews from the front, and she’s sitting alone.  


This young girl of eleven years–she’s a noticer. And being a noticer is a gift within itself.  She notices when others look the other way. She sees people and flowers and birds.  And she draws and paints and mixes colors and she’s this beauty–a voice of quiet grace.  


And these tiny voices of strength and wisdom and curiosity, kindness and empathy--are we listening?


And the song--it sings on…..


"Are you listening?

Or are you looking away?

I've been waiting for a chance to say

My unsaid opinion

That's never made a sound

But if you'll let me let it out

This tiny voice

It may not be perfect

But I know that its got some good things to say

A tiny voice humble and quiet

Don't turn away from a tiny voice"




 

A humble thank you for reading The Saturday Journal.

My prayer is to share The Saturday Journal every Saturday or at least bi-weekly--

but always on Saturdays. If you would like to have The Saturday Journal come to your email box, please subscribe to A Beautiful Grace blog and newsletter at

All photos @copyright Tathel Miller, unless otherwise credited to another photographer.




 

Need a gift for an Easter basket?

I have a limited amount of X-Marks the Spot and they are on sale at $10.00 plus $3.25 shipping.

If you are interested, please email me at tathelmillerwriter@gmail.com.

Thanks so much!


 







1 comment

1 Comment


Absolutely breathtaking!

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