But not today.
Ok, so maybe I still love the lilting songs that can be found deep within the cradle of a bagpipe.
And maybe I still love that little blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy that calls me Mommy. Maybe my heart still melts when he asks me if I'll still hold him when he's five. And maybe, just maybe he wasn't as whiny as I remember. And maybe my cooking really does make his feet hurt. After all, he said it did.
Either way, every time I looked at that child today, I thought of bagpipes.
Or rather the drone chord of a bagpipe.
Or, perhaps, the drone chord of a bagpipe that was unaccompanied by the melodious notes which give the monotonous tone life. And harmony. And beauty.
Thank God for bedtime.
And I'm struck by the notion that my life is a replica of that. For though I sit, back towards the remnants of meatloaf and green beans on my kitchen counter, taxes still needing to be done and the stickiness of sweet tea on the floor, I have discovered the beauty of God-life woven throughout mine.
I see His hand at work, and my soul delights as I see His Spirit blend with my repetitious efforts - bringing life. And harmony. And beauty.
Oh love me - and right now! Hold me tight!
Just the way You promised.
Now comfort me so I can live, really live.
Your revelation is the tune I dance to.
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