This afternoon, a group of children practice their instruments together in my home. One girl drags in an enormous baritone horn, another assembles her flute, and still another positions herself at the piano.
These brand-new musicians (two being my daughters) all want to practice their first song: Hot Cross Buns.
It’s loud, squeaky, and all out of sync.
I’m listening to it all, and I remember how I prayed that God would fill my home with music. I know nothing about music. I don’t even know how to read music. But I knew I wanted to raise musical children; it seemed right and good and wonderful.
That year, I said in despair to a friend, “I don’t have a piano, and we’ll never be able to afford one.” My friend said, “Well, you need to ask God to send you a piano and to fill this home with music!”
So I did. And He did. The next day, a friend texted to tell me the church down the road was giving a perfectly good piano away because they were getting a new one. Did I want it?
Within an hour, I had a dolly and a truck from U-Haul, several strong students, and a piano entering into my living room.
And today I have a concert happening before my eyes.
I think about that prayer as my house explodes with music.
I’ve never heard a more beautiful sound.
Journal: Did you ever ask for an extravagant thing that you received?