I knew the music of family, the mom’s melody and I loved
being immersed in its sweet sound.
But my music makers are off now leading concerts of their
own. The memory of our music together sustains me. From time to time we gather
again and I smile at the joyful noise in my heart.
I think of moms still in the midst of the music. Fall
approaches, school begins anew. Ready or not.
There is a rhythm to life that only the Lord knows, a time
for babies to be born and educated and a time for children to be transformed
into adults. I don’t know how it happens with such speed and precision. I only
know when I try to play my own family’s life melody it becomes clangy but God
makes it all so beautiful and right.
The giving, the getting, the loosing, the stretching, the
tying tight and the hard releases.
Lord, I watch my old expectations fly away and wonder why
were they once so important. Breathing You, absorbing You, exuding You seems the
only meaning that stands true.
My fingers dance, my eyes glisten, when I try to write words
that show Your You-ness as the great I AM and the FOREVER-WILL-BE and the
presence that permeates reality with joy.
For belief to exist, unbelief must be temporarily suspended.
One must be willing to wade into the huge unknown of possibility – just maybe
God is real, and knowable, and wouldn’t that be extraordinary? Especially if God
really can grasp loved ones from evil and work ugly things for good.
Which is why I can trust the grandchildren and the babies-turned-adult into the invisible arms that never fail to protect them.
Change and transition, I am bigger than these foes. I can embrace every new note of Now. Love within a family never ends it simply gets lived out differently.
God’s plan is good, really, for sure, ultimately and so I can
be content if my nest is full or whether it’s empty during hours of the school day or for a lifetime.
The music plays on. I need only listen.
