Monday, November 25, 2013

Ten Thousand Reasons for My Heart to Sing


I attended a great women's meeting a while back. Different friends shared those things in life that make their hearts sing. The topics varied widely -- from the practical to the heart-wrenching.


My friend Rachel shared about the new and much-improved chore chart she had devised. After some hand-wringing and much prayer, she abandoned what she thought it all should look like and came up with a plan that brought order and peace to her family, her house. Neat.

My friend Diane shared about the palpable outpouring of God's grace over the past heart-breaking months as she's coped with the unexpected death of her husband, Barry.

God meets us -- God loves us -- right where we are.

What makes your heart sing?

Do you find grace in the both the mundane and the profound moments of life?

Here are a few moments that have made my heart sing:

1. Reading The Magician's Nephew with John. He is enthralled, totally mesmerized. One of the bonuses of having children after a large gap it that you get to revisit your best memories of your older children. (Yeah, yeah, you get to revisit potty training and Don't go near the street!, but I'm focusing on the positive here). The wooden trains came out of the attic, and Curious George moved back to the bookshelf. You blink, and they get a tad older and
begin to love the things you love.

I love C.S. Lewis. And I love John.



2. Many years ago when I was an insufferable, know-it-all teenager, I had two names for my mom. She was Mom if all was right with my world; she became Mother when I was in mood. So it is with our resident teenager. But late at night, when the homework's done and the stresses of the day have been laid to rest, I once again become Mama, and this boy who now towers over me (not too hard to do if Mom is 5'2") wants a hug.

Heart? Singing!

3. So John looks at a note I had written, screws up his face in confusion, and informs me, "I can't read curse words!"

So glad to hear it, John. In third grade, you'll learn cursive.

4. Ainsley had an entertaining conversation with Grandma last night. From what I could gather, it went something like this:
Ainsley: I just love the polka-dotted dress you sent me, but the purple one is itchy.
Grandma: Well, maybe some other little girl would like the purple dress.
Ainsley: No, Grandma. No one wants that itchy dress.
She had Grandma laughing her head off. Little people bring much-needed little levity in life. They make our hearts sing.

5. John loves the Christmas station that begins belting out the holiday tunes around Veterans' Day. The other day he was watching his shadow as he took giant steps through the Kroger parking lot while singing "Walking Around the Christmas Tree. . . "

Too, too funny.

6. I stumbled on some dreadful story on the Internet the other day. People being horrible to small children. I picked up Ainsley and asked, "When you're sad, who do you want?"

"Grandma," she told me without hesitation.

I tried again.

"When you're scared, where do you want to be?"

"Mama's bed."

Okay then. I asked her why she comes into our bed most nights.

"I'm scared of bears," she informed me. "And I like to snuggle."

Heart singing.

7. I dozed off on the couch the other day and woke up to find Ainsley's sparkly baton tucked carefully under my arm. So sweet.

As we head toward Thanksgiving, let's all examine those things that make our heart sing.

2 comments:

Kris said...

I've been doing a meme on facebook all month where you post something you're grateful for each day. It's been a nice way to really think about the things that make my heart sing in my daily life. Sometimes it's been something silly like hot coffee on a tired morning. But other days it's been about the unexpected graces and blessing that I see that I might not have thought about.

Kelly@http:/inthesheepfold.blogspot.com said...

Some of my Facebook friends have done this, Kris, and it's been up building. And I absolutely think we should be grateful for the little things (though whether coffee qualifies as "little" is debatable).