I love music. I love to sing songs and almost always have music playing, no matter where I am. As the music plays, I sing along, sometimes quietly, sometimes not so much, and definitely never in tune. I’m singing to the Lord, so I figure by the time my sour notes reach heaven, the Lord hears a beautiful melody. Don’t worry. I won’t be singing into a microphone anytime soon.
There’s a funny thing that happens, though. As long as I’m accompanying the singer blasting from my speaker, I know the words and melody just fine. Take away the music and I’m silent. I just cannot sing a song by myself. It’s like the database of my mind has no record of any songs I’ve ever heard.
Except one: Jesus Loves Me This I Know.
Yes, that one. That well-worn, some may say cheesy, Sunday School song. And I only know the first verse and chorus, so when I sing it, I repeat the same thing over and over like a broken record. Thankfully, babies and young children don’t think the same impatient way we adults do.
Many years ago, we had a young boy stay with us for a season. His sleep was fretful, and often this little three-year-old would wake up screaming from nightmares. No amount of comforting would quiet his heart. One night, as I prayed over him, the Lord brought the thought to my mind to sing to him. So I sang the only song in my database, but changed the ‘me’ to ‘you’:
Jesus loves you, this I know, for the Bible tells me so; Little one to Him belong, you are weak, but He is strong. Yes, Jesus loves you; Yes, Jesus loves you; Yes, Jesus loves you, the Bible tells me so.
I watched in amazement as his fretful soul quieted and he fell asleep in peace for the rest of the night. I must have sung that melody to him a hundred times or more during his time with us. Then he was gone, and we’ve never seen him since.
I often think that one day he is going to hear that song and remember the peace it brought him so long ago, and the Lord will cause him to think upon those words and seek Him. Is that the wishful thinking of an overactive imagination? I often (faithlessly) thought so until I started singing the only tune I know to my grandchildren.
I sing Jesus Loves {You} when I get to tuck them in for a nap or at bedtime. I sing it when we’re walking or playing. I sing it when I rock the crying babies. I’ve noticed it brings peace every time.
I thought my hope for the boy, now an adult, was a silly fancy until I heard my two-year-old granddaughter singing ‘Mimi Song’: “Jee-Zuz wuvs me I know…the Biiii-bwle twells mesooo.”
I thought it was just a silly dream of my heart until I heard my two-year-old grandson singing the song recently as we drove to the city: “Jeee-zuz wuvs I know…..Bwibwl…sooooo”
No, they aren’t singing the words to the right melody yet, but they are singing those words to a melody. The foundational truth of the gospel—Jesus loves me—is in their tender little minds and coming out on their lips.
I watched both of my infant grandsons, at different times, try to sing to me as I sang—you guessed it—Jesus Love Me to them recently. Both are so young that they only make cooing sounds. Both babies were crying when I started singing to them. And both stopped crying as they listened to my tune. They watched me for a few minutes, then opened their mouths to chatter. Their chatter soon became a baby chatter melody, a smooth rhythm of wordless syllables, as I sang this simple one-verse song, on repeat, to their sad hearts.
Each time I sing this chorus, a seed is planted in my grandchildren’s hearts. I’ve learned that no child is too young to receive these seeds—my youngest grandson is only four months old.
These seeds planted are in their hearts and minds, doing their work even when we don’t see anything. It reminds me of the seemingly vain practice of memorizing multiplication facts—the brain does something with the facts once they are stored in our memory bank. Eventually, something clicks, and math becomes real and relevant. The seeds of the gospel, by God’s enabling power through the work of the Holy Spirit, do the same thing.
I have a poem taped to the desk in my classroom. It reminds me of the significance of the ordinary day-to-day work of planting seeds in the hearts of my students:. It’s called The Little Plant (K.L. Brown)
“In the heart of a seed
buried deep so deep
a dear little plant lay fast asleep.
Wake! Said the sunshine
and creep to the light
Wake! Said the voice of raindrops bright.
The little plant heard
and rose up to see
what the wonderful outside world might be.”
Can the Lord use a silly Sunday School song to awaken a boy, girl, woman, or man to life? It’s not wishful thinking to hope and pray so. For nothing is impossible with God.
So go ahead and sing worn-out Sunday school songs in sour notes and let the words fall upon the ears and tender hearts of the little ones in your life. May the Lord bless the seeds sown in faithfulness to one day flourish for His glory.
“Cast your bread upon the waters,
for you will find it after many days…..
He who observes the wind will not sow,
and he who regards the clouds will not reap.
As you do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb of a woman with child, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything.
In the morning sow your seed, and at evening withhold not your hand, for you do not know which will prosper, this or that, or whether both alike will be good.” Ecc. 11:1, 4-6
The Light for My Path 