Amazing Grace

Last night, my girls and I sat in the swing outside in the cool, dark weather.  We watched the lightning bugs and listened to the sounds of the country and smelled the smoke from the campfire that I insisted my husband build because I really wanted a s'more.  One of man's greatest inventions.

I don't consider myself of strong musical ability, but when I sing, my girls are enchanted and ask for more, so in my book, I must be the next Alison Krauss. (She has the most Grammy awards, who really could be better?)  I have always had a very limited range, so I favor the high notes to avoid the low notes, but sing softly all the same when the high notes come.  On a beautiful night like tonight, and when singing songs of worship, belting my voice into the air seems somehow wrong.

I teach my girls to sing with me.  I love you, Lord, and I lift my voice.  To worship you, O my soul, rejoice.  Take joy, my king, in what you hear.  May it be a sweet, sweet sound in your ear.   I see my oldest expressing herself with her hands while she sings loud and clear, not knowing the words, but trying so hard.  I see my youngest singing softly, unsure and timid, as is her way, staring up at the clouds that block that stars.  Mom, she says, sing the other one you always do. 

Swinging through the country nighttime air, I sing Amazing Grace for my children.  I think about how this verse deceives us.  I once was lost, but now am found.  Was blind, but now I see.  Staring into the dark corn fields, I know that I see nothing.  Or at least a very little.  What will my children be in 10 years?  Will we still sit on the swing and sing and talk?  Or will we battle our wills on a quest to control?  Will they be strong and run miles through our 4 acres of frogs and snakes and trees?  Or will they be sick and walk the halls of a hospital too many times to count?  Because I am human, I have a painful moment of asking God, where are you?  (Jesus did too.)  The world feels much too big and hard for me; although I have committed my life to following Jesus, I am not guaranteed the sight of where he is and where I am going.  I am suddenly all too aware of the enormity and fragility of my life and beg for God's hand of guidance.  Twas grace that taught my heart to fear and grace my fears relieved.    

Singing songs opens doors for a lot of good discussion with the girls. One must therefore pick good songs. This is one reason why I tend to steer clear of songs that go "Pharaoh, Pharaoh, Oh, baby, let my people go."  (Although still very awesome like the majority of songs from the 80s.)

...and grace will lead me home. 
The girls ask me what Heaven is like.  You'll know it when you get there, I say.  It's where you were born.  It's your true home.  Just a bit of time on Earth, then God will take you home.

...I shall possess within the veil a life of joy and peace.
Are ghosts real?  The girls ask.  Because since other kids live in this world too, I cannot shelter them.  Yes, I say.  We are the ghosts.  We are just drifting through this world quickly.  When we get home, we will have our full selves.   

I could sit here all night and sing and relax and be suffocated by creation.  It is a moment I feel I was made for.  While I appreciate my life of laundry, cooking, and reading lessons, I am often frustrated at the emptiness of it.  But my emptiness is not wrong, it is knowing.  Knowing that I am not yet home, nor daily doing what I am called to do.  But here, right now, we are singing and listening and being still.  Of all of life's skills one must teach their children, this is the most important.  Because, in the end, it's all we were made for.  

...We've no less days to sings God's praise, then when we first begun.