by Joey Davis
Last Saturday was my birthday. That morning was spent taking our teens to Opryland. The evening was to be an evening of quiet. Melissa planned a steak dinner for me and bought me a steak so thick and perfectly marbled that your arteries just looking at it.
When I got home, Melissa left to grocery shop. After Melissa left, Olivia came and sat next to me on the couch. She looked up at me and asked, "How old are you?" I replied, "Thirty-three!" She then asked, "Are you older than Dee-Dee?" Dee-Dee is my eighty-five year old grandmother. "No sweetheart, Dee-Dee is much older than I am." "Momma said that you're really old and that we should be nice to you." "She did, did she?" "Yep, that's why she bought you a shirt (I hadn't opened my gifts yet). "
Then Olivia's face became contorted into as thoughtful a look as . a child can produce. She again looked up and said, "I didn't get you nothing. I don't have no money." Then she thought for a minute and said, "I know what I can do for your birthday..." Then she stood and cradled my head and shoulders with all of the care one would take with a newborn child. She started caressing my head and then gave me the gift of a life time., her song.
I know that I'm prejudiced, but it was the most beautiful song I have ever heard. None of the verses rhymed. The melody was pretty although it was filled with sour notes that I choose to view as unique and creative melodies by a confident and bold entertainer.' It was filled with dozens of "I love you's" and "Happy Birthday's" and lasted for over twelve minutes.
(It was her 'long version') In this song she shared with me a great deal about herself. Things like...she wants to be an actor and cheerleader when she grows up, she has a boyfriend named Corey...she loves me as much as Rosie, her kitten. She ended her twelve minute serenade by singing, "you're such a good daddy...I love you."
She captured my heart and in the process ruined it for anyone else who wanted to give me a gift! She had given what nobody else could...herself!
Now I think I understand how our heavenly Father feels when we sing praises to him. It's not important to Him how well we sing. He sees sour notes as creative melodies. What's important is that we tell Him that we love Him and pour out our hearts to Him. May I always sing to my heavenly Father with the sincerity' of heart with which Olivia sang to me. Just like Olivia's gift to me, all other gifts pale in comparison to our gift of praise to the Father.
July 2, 1995
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