Titus Chapter 3

​“He saved us, not on the basis of deeds which we have done in righteousness, but according to His mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewing by the Holy Spirit, whom He poured out upon us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by His grace we would be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life.”
Titus 3:5-7 (NASB)

Prayer Over Our Children

Help my little one be law abiding, obedient, and prepared to do what is right and good. May her tongue never malign but be peaceable and considerate, showing true humility towards all people. Free my child from foolishness, disobedience, deceit, and passions or pleasures, malice, and envy. ...

Oh Father, show mercy to my daughter, and save her from the uselessness and un-profitability of foolishness, disobedience, deceit, malice, envy, passions and pleasures. Save her through the washing, rebirth, and renewing power of the Holy Spirit. Pour out with abundance Your Holy Spirit so that she will inherit the hope of eternal life. May she be devoted to doing what is good, avoiding the uselessness and unprofitability of foolish controversies, genealogies, quarrels, and arguments about the law. May she have nothing to do with divisiveness, but rather devote herself to doing what is good and living a productive life.

Have you ever tasted a golden Sunday? Sweetness to the soul, joyful in spirit, and exuberant in pure radiance? This was our past Sunday – one of those rare days when the smile of God filled our hearts and shone down on us in brilliant, heartwarming rays. 
     
It started with the simplicity of a song. One that holds special meaning to us as a family and stirs deep wells of gratitude and joy. It came at the end of our worship service, unexpected in the hearing, yet welcome in it’s embrace. My thoughts had been troubled, contemplating a sadness in my soul, when the words of the chorus penetrated the gloom of my heart. 
     
“Holy, holy, Lord God Almighty! Worthy is the Lamb who was slain!” These powerful words reverberated through my consciousness and I bent low to whisper to Sweet pea, who sat beside me. 
     
“This is the song!” I smiled big and broad. “This is the song that you and Daddy dance too!” Sweet girl’s head flashed up and she leaped off the seat. Instantly, she stretched her little arms up towards her father in an endearing entreaty. Daddy smiled down tenderly to his little girl and scooped up his now, much larger, but still just as precious package. 
     
“Highest praises, honor, and glory. Be unto the Lamb! Be unto the Lamb.” Tears brimmed in my eyes as little girl leaned into her Daddy’s chest and snuggled her head in the crook of his shoulder. Daddy’s eyes were closed, and he swayed to the words of the song, pressing the childish innocence, close in his arms. 
     
Two years prior, the three of us relaxed on the couch, watching a children’s praise DVD when the song first came on. 
     
“Holy, holy, Lord God Almighty…” The words and the music washed over me in a beautiful waterfall of images and emotions. As the music crescendoed and swelled to glorious peaks of praise, the picture of worshiping angels, hands raised high, and my little girl all grown up and dancing with her Daddy on her wedding day flooded my movie screen mind. 
     
“Holy is the Lamb who was slain!” worshiped the words of the song. 
     
“Oh, Daddy!” I breathed with tears flooding my eyes. I stretched an arm out to hug Sweet girl who cuddled between us and held her close. 
     
“Highest praises, glory, and honor….” Floated the song through the air as I shared with my husband the images which had just flashed through my mind in vivid brilliance. Sweet girl cuddled close and was captivated by the pictures on the DVD itself, her little eyes wide with delight. 
     
“Dance with her,” I urged my husband, “this could be the song you and she dance to on her wedding day!” And to my surprise, my husband who avoids dancing at all costs, rose off the couch and extended a hand to his little girl.
     
With a giggle of delight, Sweet girl scrambled off the couch and took her father’s hands. Gracefully, he positioned her tiny feet on top of his own and then he stepped one foot forward, and then the other. Eyes sparkling and mouth wide in a huge smile, Sweet girl’s small hand disappeared in her father’s larger ones, and she looked up adoringly to his face. Step forward, step back, step to the side, and step together. The two of them danced and stepped to the music like a sneak peek of what was to come.
     
“…be unto the Lamb, be unto the Lamb!” Little girl brightness shone with glowing radiance in the tender, deep love of her father. Like with the love of our Heavenly Lord, Sweet pea, in all her little girlishness, looked with the adoring eyes of a child who trusts completely and believes unquestioningly in the love and goodness of her father. Unconditional in its receipt and unconditional in it’s return. 
     
Tears flooded my eyes, streaming down my cheeks in river lets that were wiped away by an afghan while this beautiful scene unfolded. Father and daughter twirling and dancing with Sweet girl, who barely peeped above his knees. Laughter, giggles, and squeals mixed with smiles, wide eyes, and tender glances. Light streamed through the great wall of windows behind them, illuminating their figures as if under a spotlight and alone on an empty dance floor. Father and toddler child, still more baby then little girl, arms and legs still dimpled by baby fat rolls. 
   
Yet, as my now preschool little girl tumbled home from church with sleepy yawns and tired eyes, I could not shake the song from the inner ear of my mind. Even as my family sat and finished their lunch, I hummed the praise song beneath my breath. But as I hummed, the words and the rush of the melody took flight in glorious swells of worship. When heart fills to overflowing, it cannot be stifled or kept tamped down deep below – it must rise, it must soar, it must dance, and be freed. 
     
“Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty,” I hummed as I began twirling on the kitchen floor. 
     
“Worthy is the Lamb who was slain,” rang the words throughout my heart as I extended a pointed toe and spun in a circle of praise to the Almighty One. Sweet girl smiled bright, her fatigue forgotten and eager to join in the dance. 
     
“Highest praises, honor, and glory,” came my offerings of worship, “be unto the Lamb.” I dipped and twirled. “Be unto the Lamb.” Soon, a little body joined me on the homemade dance floor and we spun in delighted wonder, reveling in the simple joy of worshiping God. 
     
Then, with caution and quiet time flung to the wayside, I suddenly found myself gallivanting and galloping around my house, as best a blind person can, singing at the top of my lungs in full abandon, “Holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, worthy is the Lamb who was slain!” A sparkling eyed, giggling little girl tore after me, joining me in her high, squealing loud soprano, 
     
“Highest praises, honor, and glory,” she breathlessly squealed. 
     
“Be unto the Lamb,” we yelled together, “be unto the Lamb!” Round and round we circled the house, my husband shaking his head in laughter as the little kid tore after the big kid and our voices melded in disjointed harmony. Breathless, we collapsed in her bed upstairs, our eyes shining with pure joy and absolute perfect peace. Huge hugs and the biggest of smiles from the little one I adored only added to the overflow of deep gratitude that filled my heart to overflowing. 
     
But even as the afternoon progressed, somehow, we found ourselves listening to that very same DVD which began this journey so many years ago. 
     
“Dance with me daddy,” she begged, lifting her arms upwards in her pleading way. “Dance with me, Daddy, please?” Once again, Daddy placed his little girl’s feet atop his own, only this time the small feet that balanced on top of his, though still small, were not as tiny as they had been before. The eyes which still looked up adoringly into her father’s face and the smile that filled the child before him, stood many inches taller then the last time that father and daughter had dared to dance. With her head now level to his hip, her arms a little longer and more secure in her grasp, Sweet pea once more twirled and spun on the feet of her father in a holy dance of love and absolute trust. 
     
“Holy, holy, Lord God Almighty,” once more floated the words through the air, “worthy is the Lamb who was slain!” sang the words in my heart. 
     
​“Highest praises, honor, and glory be unto the Lamb,” twirled father rand daughter, “be unto the Lamb!”

A Parent's Prayer

Holy, Lord God Almighty, You are worthy of my praises, for You are the Lamb who was slain. Let me give You highest praises, honor, and glory to You this day.