"When your heart and mind are quiet, you can hear Me inviting you to draw near." From Sarah Young's Jesus Calling: Enjoying Peace in His Presence

Yesterday, even as I "relax[ed] in [God's] healing, holy Presence," I put a back-up plan in place--just in case.

Friday morning, I woke up with half a voice. Although I hoped the singing half would return by this morning, I sensed the prudence of being proactive. I went to sleep relieved by my brother's gracious offer to play the offertory, but admittedly I was a bit disappointed.

My sons surprised me with uncharacteristic motivation for a Sunday morning. On the way to church, I tentatively warmed my voice and my heart to the possibility the song could still be sung. I paused, silently prayed.

We arrived at church when my brother and I had planned to meet to practice. I entered the sanctuary, rallied by my sons' encouragement. My oldest willingly stepped into the sound booth. My brother came prepared with my song and his song. I sensed the great support of family with my uncle greeting at the door, my aunt playing the organ, and my cousin leading worship and prayer. My brother and I hurried through a sound check. Between hymns, I scrawled song words on a sheet of paper with a stubby pencil. I wrote them from memory, recalling my mother's warm alto voice and my grandmother's proficient pianist fingers. I smiled at my grandmother's revised edition of the second verse, written with her hope-filled conviction and poetic prowess. No doubt, she smiled from heaven.

But, what makes me smile most is the title and words of the song that God spoke through the last-minute restoration of my voice and the sentiment shared in the quotation from my quiet time reading today--"Speak to Us Gently."