My mother, with hands on the wheel and eyes focused on the road, directed each phrase to her unenthusiastic children in the back seat:
God's on His throne, no need to worry.
God's on His throne, so I can rest.
God's on His throne, and I can trust Him.
Almighty King, God's on His throne.
Twenty years later, I remember the words clearly.
Tonight, I rock my baby boy quietly in his room, while tears fall down my cheeks. Another hard day was ending, with helpless thoughts and frantic prayers crowding my already exhausted mind. He looks at my teary eyes, and removes his thumb from between his lips.
"God on throne, Mama," he says, before reinserting his thumb and snuggling deep against my chest.
I manage a weak smile and begin to sing the words to an often-requested bedtime song. He sings along in his mumbled 2-year-old voice.
I sing of God's Kingship, of God's Sovereignty, of our rest. Together, we sing God's truth for weary hearts.
I rock, and I think back to my own mother, singing to a car full of moody children. Little did she know it, but she was teaching truth to her future grandson.
Thank you to my mama, who faithfully invested in me, and planted the words of truth in my heart.
Thank you to my son, who unknowingly asks me to recite God's truths when I need them the most.
Thank you to the Lord, who promises His covenant faithfulness to the generations.
To all the weary mamas out there -- persevere.
Persevere through exhaustion.
Persevere through uninterested children.
Persevere in your worthy calling.
Persevere, because you are teaching truth to the generations.
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