She walked up to me, so much stronger and brighter than everyone else in the room. Demensia had set in at a younger age, causing her life to be cut so much shorter than it ever should have been.
"I have to tell you," she said, holding my arms with her warm hands, "my grandfather's name was Daniel, and Danny Boy was his very favorite song. Every time I hear it I just cry and cry, but it really starts a healing process for me. Thank you for singing it today."
I didn't mention to Janet that she told me the same thing last month.
Last month, however, I had been completely oblivious to her story and how much she loved Danny Boy. I was just sitting at the piano bench when Jesus whispered, "Play that one." It went against my plan, but I did it anyway. And when she came up to me and revealed how much the song meant to her, I silently praised God for using little old me and an ancient Irish melody to bring healing to one of His precious children.
This month I had remembered Janet, and had grabbed my celtic songbook before rushing out of the door. I had been sick with a cold and could barely squeak out the high notes, but it didn't matter to her. All she needed was to hear that song, and all I needed to do was let Him use me to bless her.
It doesn't take anything more than surrender to His perfect guidance.
Let us strive to be used!
"...Because of the tender mercy of our God, by which the rising sun will come to us from heaven to shine on those living in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the path of peace." Luke 1:78-79
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