Rhythm Recognized

My little one strikes out in anger

fear in motion.

I gather him close.

Wrap him tight, arms full circle

my cheek on his.

I rock him back and forth

His tense body relaxes into mine.

He rocks too...deepening the rhythm.

Physical pressure

controlled rhythm

witness that he is recognized

loved.

Later I find myself striking out.

Anger filling my body.

 My smile, my touch, is all it should be

but the battle rips through me

jagged and bloody.

I try to mend it with logic, 

all I know to be real.

Breathe deep, refocus...

tomorrow will be better.

But it still burns.

I cry out

I'm done

I want it gone.

I feel the peace wrap around

music, rhythm rocking me

applying pressure to my spirit

witness that I am recognized

loved.

My body relaxes, sways with the melody.

I sleep.

It was SO worth it

I needed that.

Scrunched in a pew with family and friends, the musical sound of praise bigger than the room and filling every part of me.

I needed that.

After getting dressed up again on a Sunday evening to sit in church for two hours, I thanked my kids for sticking with me and their reply was, "It was worth it."

I needed that.

Bingham falling asleep on my lap as choir after choir sang the new and the familiar.

I needed that.

Reminders of the power that comes from those who willing mourn with those who mourn and comfort those who stand in need of comfort.

I needed that.

Completely carried away by "O Holy Night".

I needed that.

Feeding the Hungry

We sang the song I'm sure I had sung several times before, and had never heard.

In fasting we approach thee here

And pray thy Spirit from above

Will cleanse our hearts, cast out our fear,

And fill our hunger with thy love.

It had been a tough week for everyone. Unexpected loss of those so young disrupts, even breaks life as we know it; leaves us scrambling to fix, offering food and calls and silent hugs.

Thru this small sacrifice, may we

Recall that strength and life each day

Are sacred blessings sent from thee-

Fill us with gratitude, we pray.

During that mending melody they came in, one less than the week before but stronger. Strength that came not from their own splintered spirits, but from the angels surrounding them; I felt them as they squeezed by and settled into crowed pews.

And may our fast fill us with care

for all thy children now in need.

may we from our abundance share

They sheep to bless, thy lambs to feed.

At that point we were all children of need and and yet there was so much abundance shared.

This fast, dear Father, sanctify-

Our faith and trust in thee increase.

As we commune and testify,

May we be filled with joy and peace.

I saw her again that night, the mother who had lost, and and for the first time in thee days she looked fuller; maybe just the edge knocked off her hunger, simple willingness to trust in her eyes. 

Text: Paul L. Anderson, b. 1946. © 1981 Paul L. Anderson and Lynn R. Carson.

Running on my own

It's been a while since I've run alone. I've been lucky to have good company; commitments that get me out the door and down the road.

But not today.

To be honest, I was looking forward to it...to doing my own thing. Sometimes like to take my time and other times I crave speed. Sometimes I like to have the option of changing route mid run just because something looks interesting, or to listen to music..loud, or not, and just let the chirping birds tickle my thoughts.

This morning I chose music and speed. I started out slow in song and stride and just let it build; body warming, beating past the slugish jog. It was like my playlist knew exactly what I had in mind, the bass started pounding as I hit the hill hard;and then stopped short after a ripping guitar. All I could hear was pounding breath and crunching gravel as I claimed last of the hill; the perfect sound, life as the instrument.

158/1000

His & Hers

ME: "Honey! They're playing our song!"

HIM: "Hugh?"

My husband and I have never liked the same songs, or even the same type of music...at least...not at the same time, so we have several songs we claim as our own, but they are in two different categories: HIS and HERS.

One of my earliest favorites was "Cowboy Take Me Away" by the Dixie Chicks...but, my husband never was a cowboy, in fact, he used to joke about buying a house within walking distance to the GAP.

One of his early faves was probably something by R.E.M.

We did come close once. When my husband heard Alison Krauss sing "When You Say Nothing at All". He loved it, thought for sure it should be our song....unfortunately I thought it was silly since we never said "nothing at all." Besides, I thought "Simple Love" by Alison Krauss should be our love theme...sigh...

But we keep trying. I love the song "Radio King", covered by Wilco. It seems to fit us lyrically if not musically...(of course, Hubby doesn't like that kind of music...whatever.)

Your music fills my car
your voice breaks every time
I'm still wonderin'
if I know who you are
so I hang on every line.

I'm ok with our differences here, in fact, it intrigues me. Many wonderful conversations have begun with the line, "This song reminds me of..." I also love what the kids pick up from our different tastes, and we've had some fun family "dance offs" to music I never would have thought of playing.

Maybe one day, the music will start and I'll look up and catch his eye, and we'll both smile....but until then, all I ask, is that the music keep on playin'.

Tune in to Love songs at chocolateonmycranium

Nodding my head like Yeah!

To keep Laser Boy busy while I swept my piles and mopped dirty corners, I popped in a homemade DVD from my sister. He was completely captivated with the faces of family and playing his imaginary guitar to the rockin' music. I enjoyed it too, of course; it knocked the drudgery right out of my mop bucket, and we had a little party.

I love how clean my house is in January. New perspective in motion. I wonder how it ever could have been any other way....

I wonder how long I will wonder that.

At least I'm past the point of house work being a necessary goal to set, something that requires a yearly calendar change to get done. However, I do still need to check things off my list...it's far from habitual.

I dread the mundane, doing something all the time...because it needs to be done...

all the time.

But lately I have really come to enjoy my brain time while doing what will need to be done again tomorrow. Have you ever noticed how mopping a floor can take your mind to places you would have missed otherwise? Better yet, how it works it's way through problems that direct focus only blocks?

Almost as good as a run, but then my running still eludes the habitual.

Party on.

It's All About the Baby...and maybe a little Chocolate

I love Christmas. I love the lights and tinsel. I love the color red.....and green....and even gold (but only at Christmas time). I love presents, given and received. I love how happy everyone is at church or even strangers on the street; wearing their inner beauty on their sleeves for all to see. I love living in a small town that isn't afraid to tell the Christmas story during library story time or to sing about Christ in the Kindergarten program. I love Poinsettias and minty hot chocolate. I love it all, but none of these things bring it home like music.

Not just any music. I've been disappointed more than once by carols sung by a half-hearted soul. There is something about expressing yourself through music that doesn't let you lie. Voice or instrumental; both reveal the soul.

I'm picky about my Christmas music, it's personal, so no generic version will do. My favorite Christmas song is "O Holy Night"; it's personal. I just listened to a new-to-my-ears version and my heart felt Christmas. It's from a CD titled "It's All About the Baby" and sells for only $10.99. But if your looking for a better deal than that, there is a free give away at Chocolateonmycranium, and really, what's Christmas without a little chocolate?

Let it Out

I love the music of Christmas time. The spirit of it is so hard to deny...and too strong hold back. As I sat in church today, I listened to those (including myself) who normally mumble into their hymnal, harmonizing (not so much myself) in voices that seemed to have been saved especially for this season.

The choir sang "O Holy Night" and I felt left out, sitting in the congregation juggling kids. It's my favorite Christmas carol, especially when sung by someone who truly believes in it's message. It requires so much of the soul to really do the music justice. My heart sings it much better than my voice could ever allow... which was why I was juggling kids while my husband sang. I remember the first time I really heard that song. I wasn't even paying attention and then all of a sudden the feeling in the room was so strong I looked up....and heard. The man singing was talented, but not exceptionally, yet there was no doubt that day of what was in his heart.

Even the carols that don't mention Christ still do wonders in lifting the soul. Anyone who has experienced a long dark winter can appreciate the elevation you get by singing "Winter Wonderland" or "Let it Snow"...It's about getting up and making hot cocoa and snow angles, instead of sitting wrapped and shivering....finding gratitude in the moment, and doesn't that always glorify?

My mom used to get after us for slurring through "heavenly peace" as we sang of that wondrous, silent night. Hoping always to hear that heavenly choir she knew to be in our hearts. As I have grown, and find myself still still looking for the right notes, I have come to peace with just letting it out. All the joy and gratitude that has been building up in my heart all year long....I just let it out, and sing. Who knows, maybe next year I'll let my husband juggle while I sing.

Let your voice be heard, open your heart and sing.

Awed in the Moment

From the beginning, I knew it couldn't be about race. To have the majority of citizens vote the mantel of United States President on an African American would be such a victory, but for it to be a true and lasting victory, it couldn't be just about race. So from the beginning I put the thought out of my mind, and opened up to a barrage of politics...through the mail, internet, tv, radio, community, and even at church. Everyone with their own ideas and opinions....nothing I hear could be clear...let alone completely truthful. I go with my gut. There are too many ways to spin truth into lies and in the end all we have is that instinct...based on prayer, to decide which will be the better, or in the worse case, which will do the least harm.

In the end the issues closest to my heart won my vote, and I don't regret not being one of the millions whose vote landed on the winning side, because it took everyone to make it happen. Everyone studying the issues, thinking, hoping and mostly praying; and now, no matter what political convictions I hold to, this is a day I am proud to be a part of. Without a worthy opponent the victory would be weak....and even if there is disagreement with some Democratic politics, it is hard to deny the power of the moment.

I have never understood all the attention given to this high barran peak, but today I saw its strength rooted in it's surroundings, and I couldn't get enough of it's views. I better understand the inspiration of the poem turned song by Katherine Lee Bates...

America!
America!
God shed His grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shinning sea!

There is a lot more to the song, and a lot more to come for this country. I have some concerns, but I can't help but enjoy the victory and what it means to everyone...of every race...who call themselves Americans. I find a lot of hope in open talk of prayer, and the wide agreement that we should pray for this man who will lead our nation.

May God thy gold refine
Till all success be nobelness,
And ev'ry gain devine.

Rest

I look back on the week and feel the relief that comes with survival. In full perspective in wasn't so bad...nothing a million other mothers haven't experienced...but still, there I sat today with many others singing praises, thinking of all the important things left undone...missed. His Word quickly read over my own, hoping it would settle somewhere in their little hearts. Prayers sporadic, interrupted, and often forgotten. I was feeling a little out of breath as I glanced down at the hymnal my daughter was holding for me...and there it was.

"....On our Savior's love we rest."

Yes, that was it...when sleep was at best intermittent, His love is there to revive and give strength.

"....Let thy Spirit linger near. Pardon faults, O Lord, we pray; Bless our efforts day by day."