Don't Listen For the Imperfections

My oldest granddaughter has a voice that carries....loudly.  And she knows how to use it. She has to be reminded to use her "inside voice" quite often.  I know she gets on a lot of people's nerves, including her mother's.  That's not surprising since her mother has a lot of voices pulling at her with three little ones and her many needy patients in her work, just to name a few.  I have to admit there are times when I even get a little frustrated with Rachel but overall, her voice is music to me.  From the time I first heard her cry outside that hospital delivery suite when she made her loud entrance into this world to the time I first heard her coin the name Mamoo at 1 year of age, to the present, the sound of her voice always captures my heart.  Now, understand, my other two grandchildren mean as much to me as Rachel, but they are all unique in their own special ways.  I love them dearly.  They are the light of my life without a doubt.  But a thought that occurred to me from a recent comment made to me prompted this post.

Rachel is much like her daddy.  She is musical.  She is always singing.  I remember her daddy, when he was little, would sing to the top of his lungs while sitting on the potty!  It was funny.....but precious.  He was always making noises or singing or drumming on his chest....or whatever was handy at the time.  I'm afraid not much of that has changed, though, thankfully, most of his has been channeled constructively into beautiful original songs and melodies, both vocal and instrumentally.  Rachel is extremely independent and very extroverted.  She's going to be a song writer as well, I'm sure.  She makes up her own songs and melodies.  Some of them need work.  She already has a beautiful voice and can carry a tune very well.  But, also like her daddy, she likes to make up silly songs and this is where the rub is.

The family was sitting in our living room relaxing recently after a delicious meal prepared by my daughter-in-law and Rachel, along with Jordan and Ellie, were in the other room playing.  I'm so accustomed to their sounds of playing that a lot of things that might give pause to someone else doesn't even register with me.  Rachel was making up another one of her silly melodies and her mother, who was very tired after a long day of traveling prior to making dinner, commented on the chalkboard scratching effect it had on her tired ears and asked me if it didn't bother me.  And, truthfully, I hadn't even noticed.  I thought about it later and this thought occurred to me.  I think there comes a softening with age to a lot of things.  Grandparents, especially, have had the "edges" rubbed off to where irritations don't "catch" as much.  We don't notice the imperfections.  I think love plays a part in it, too.  Not that we love any more than our younger children, but we definitely love differently.  And then another thought occurred to me.  I'm so thankful that when my Heavenly Father listens to my pitiful cries and the messed up melody of my life that He doesn't hear the imperfections.  I am music to His hears! 

Sing on, my little one, just use your "inside voice" when it's appropriate! 

Life is Butter Dreams

There is no way that I could wait to get through 7 years of letters before I mentioned the most precious part of me: my grandchildren! I haven't even gotten to my 1997 letter and the first one was not born until 2004! All the letters in the world are not enough to contain my feelings for them or their antics and cuteness (and "orneryness" [it's in the dictionary]). I've wished so many times that I had kept a little journal with me to write down all the things they say, and maybe I'll do more of that with this venue!

Those of you with children, - especially small children - or grandchildren, know how it is: there is always sound. In the background. All around you. And every once in a while a little bit of that sound registers as words to you and you pay attention: "What was that?" This happened the other day. We were sitting in my kitchen and in the background my oldest granddaughter was singing as she often does. Thankfully their lives' (my grandchildren's) are filled with music. Music is an integral part of my life as well as my children's lives. Rachel has a tendency, however, to substitute words. She gets all the syllables in there, and the melody, but sometimes she doesn't catch the words and so she just improvises. Her mother caught my attention and caused me to listen to her singing: "Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream. Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is butter dreams!" And over and over and over again. Every time it was the same. "Life is butter dreams!" Oh, to be a child again. That is what their lives are! "Butter Dreams". What are butter dreams? Soft, smooth, problem-free, innocent, perfect lives. Lives that add flavor to everything they touch! This culture would try and destroy that but we must protect that with everything that is in our power. Children are our most precious responsibilities! Jesus blessed the children and said, "Suffer the little children to come unto Me and forbid them not: for of such is the Kingdom of Heaven." (Mark 10:14) And in Matthew the 18th chapter, he gives stern warnings to those who harm these little ones (and those of a child-like attitude).

And so, sing on, little One! Live in that perfect world. Give us glimpses, every now and then, into that life of Butter Dreams! We'll let you live there as long as you possibly can! Our love will protect you and the One who created you, who loves you so much more than we ever could dream of, will keep you in His love. And that's not a dream. It's for real!