Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Peace In That Room

Every day is crazy.
There's noise and chaos, laughter, impatience, lots of cleaning up -- lots of sweeping the floor, putting stuff away, preparing food.
There are conversations that matter and conversations that don't.
Soft voices and loud voices.
Moments you could repeat again and again, and moments you'd prefer to forget.
I can see ways I am blessing my children, and ways I am sure I am ruining them.
It's a big, beautiful mess that just keeps moving.

But sometimes that crazy focuses, even for just a minute.

Last night I had some friends over for book club.
We didn't discuss one word of the book, but we talked a lot about other things.

And when they left, my boys ran upstairs, still not asleep -- tho they should have been.
It was after 10:00.  

They pilfered from the snacks on the table and ate a red candy heart.

I turned off all the lights, except for the candles that were burning in the front room.

I wanted to listen to a piece again that I was introduced to at Christmas time -- one that has stopped me with its beauty.  When I sit and listen to it, it lulls me into stillness.

I got to share that with my boys last night.
They ended up grabbing their pillows and blankets.
One of them sacked on the floor, the other on the couch.

I turned it on and we sat there, in the dark, with flickering light, and listened to this gorgeous piece with Latin text.

They were silent, and so was I.

I went down to get my pajamas on and the baby woke up.  She came back upstairs to nurse on my lap and I replayed the piece again.  I told them we would listen one more time and then go to bed.  

By the time it was over, I looked at my sons.
They were both fast asleep.

I watched them sleeping,
sat there soaking it in.

And, above all the other beauty that filled my day, 
that was the moment.
That time with my sons.
Enjoying beauty together.
Peace was so thick in that room.
Beautiful music, quiet, wonderings and musings, reflecting on my people I came from, and then looking at my people after me, wondering what they will remember about their lives at home.
Feeling gratitude for the journey, with all its seasons.

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