Multitude Mondays: When We Find Music in the Mayhem
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She sat smack in the middle of the clamor,
her curly-haired head bent low over her book on the cluttered counter.
My head throbbed from the noise ricocheting off the terracotta kitchen walls.
At our house, the sound of summer is LOUD.
The sun was sinking but the evening stretched ahead like a never-ending country lane.
I wanted to cover my ears and tantrum like a cranky child.
I couldn’t hear the thunk of my knife on the cutting board as I chopped carrots for dinner.
The clamor of five children filled the air.
As the cacophony beneath my roof crescendoed, my joy waned.
All I wanted was a little peace and quiet.
Just a moment to hear myself think.
Or pray.
Or sing along with the praise songs that were drifting from the radio beside the sink.
If pandemonium were a song, we’d own the copyright.
A shriek from the basement pelted my ears.
Feet shuffled a floor below. Voices surged.
I set down my paring knife, exhaled a weary moan, and headed to the stairwell to evaluate the ruckus.
That’s when she said it.
Just put down her book with a satisfied sigh and announced,“I love the sound of home.”
I turned to stare at her, my firstborn girl with ferocious frizz and sparkling baby blues.
And I began to laugh. Not a love-that-joke kind of giggle but a you’ve got to be crazy sort of chuckle .
“What’s so funny?” she asked, confused by my chortles.
“You love noise?” I asked, incredulous.
“I love our noise,” she replied matter-of-factly, certain that her English-major-mama would understand how the pronoun changed everything.
I shook my head in disbelief and abandoned my post at the top of the stairs.
Then I turned back to the messy kitchen counter, tossed the empty carrot bag in the garbage can, and reached for an onion.
“Just listen, Mom,” my daughter pleaded as she cocked her head closed her eyes.
“It’s not noise,“ she said as she cupped her ear in a dramatic display.
“It’s….it’s…..” She rolled her eyes to Heaven as if Abba might help her fill in the blank of this crazy mad lib of life.
She opened her eyes and lowered her voice. “It’s more like a symphony.”
I stopped laughing and grew silent, ceased chopping and listened intently to the clamor…
The screech of a daughter reading a picture book in a high-pitched silly voice.
The choo-chooing of a little boy pushing his wooden train across the carpet.
The trill of a toddler’s laughter. The pattering of feet. The clink of cold cubes dropping from the ice maker….
And suddenly I heard it, too.
A muffled melody in the mayhem. Harmony in the hoopla. Lusty jumbled joy.
She watched my countenance change, my wrinkled brow lines relax.
And she held my gaze with hope.
“Do you hear it?“
I let the sounds of home wash over over me anew and returned her smile.
Then I turned off the radio, picked up that onion that needed chopping, and offered the Lord my own song of thanks for the gift of noisy grace.
The Overflow: “He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God.”-Psalm 40:3
Still counting…
1188. The simple joy of a small town celebration- dunk tanks and pick-up games, playground fun and ring toss, and a breathtaking sunset over the fields of corn.
1189. Watching fireworks on Grandma’s hill with her famous popcorn for munching.
1190. Hosting Hannah’s first Mommy-and-Me Bible study (finally!)
1191. “Fluffers” the baby bird chirping in a big blue bucket. The kids feeding it by hand, proud to have saved it from the storm.
1192. Sending Luke off on his mission trip to Kentucky- the privilege of being Christ’s hands and feet.
1193. A mob of happy kids playing flashlight tag in the dark backyard.
1194. Bonfire with friends.
1195. Sparklers in the hands of skipping, squealing children.
1196. Fresh flowers on my kitchen table.
1197. The smell of supper cooking on the grill.
1198. Receiving a handwritten card in the mail, the gift of a friend who prays for me.
1199. Pizza with friends after church.
2000. Lying in the hammock with Maggie’s soft skin pressed to mine. “Mommy, we are friends, aren’t we?”
Linking again with Ann and these lovely grace seekers: l.l. for on, in, and around mondays, laura for playdates with god, ruth at the better mom, and jen for soli deo gloria
Oh, Sherri! I LOVE the noise of your house, too. And I’m a little lonely without it, dear friend. So glad your neighbor girl is soaking in the love that lingers between the walls of your home.
This is so true! It is a symphony!
You and I work we’ll as friends, because Lizzy and I are alike! I LOVE the noise of home too?
A little neighborhood girl comes over and ever time she comes she tells me how loud my home is! But she keeps coming, and keeps wondering how we accomplish anything with so much noise! One day she came over and there was down time, she came over to the counter where I was cooking, and said, “you know why I come over all the time?”
“it’s not lonely at your house, there is always someone to play with ir help, I’m lonely at home!”
I thought…how true…someday the noise will cease….and it will be a bit lonely!
I love this.
In fact, I am returning to read it again . . . because I *need* it today. 🙂
A beautiful noise indeed … but as in introvert … I would still enjoy occasional quiet. 🙂
That is so sweet and so beautiful. I love thinking of it that way. I come from a LOUD home. But she is right, that is the sound of *home*.
Oh, out of the mouths of babes. So much wisdom from your little girl. I pray I remember her words the next time I want to say “SSSSHHHH”. Stopping by to say thank you for visiting me at Count His Blessings. I loved your comment on how we as Moms overthink things way to much. Had to say thank you and so glad I came here to do so. This post was precious!! Blessings!
Alicia, I am so happy to have read your words today — to offer up these summer noises that more often sound to me like bombs going off and not the joy and beauty of life that they are. Oh, your daughter’s heart! Stunning! Thank you!
There is not a girl voice in our symphony, unless a boy brings one home – and I love the added music – with lyrics that can only come from a girl. As a mom of 5 boys – it’s a band/symphony that sounds more like – like Wagner when they’re teens – like music from the shire when they’re little – I love your post – it has made me think, to re-hear – and I’m going to think about that for a while – your post so blessed me:)
Beautiful! This made me smile. My house is very quiet now that #1 son is gone and #2 son gone all the time with college and activities. I cherish the peaceful quiet, but I also miss those symphonies of home sounds. Maybe one day future grandchildren will bring those sounds back 🙂
Hester,
Thanks for dropping by to encourage me. I love how God can take our humble offerings and somehow use them. Blessings to you.
I agree, Keri! It seems the music beneath my noise is always more like my teenager’s rap songs 🙂
Next time I will listen for the symphony. Don’t get mad if I’m hoping it’s more like Brahm’s “Lullaby” than Tchaikovsky’s “1812 Overture” though.
Loved your post.
Hi Alicia,
Just want to thank you for your great article in the P31 Woman for July. It really blessed me and it made me ponder things in my own life.
God bless you as you enjoy the ride!
Love, Hester Christensen
Beautiful!!!
What great insight children can have! I, too, have so many moments where I just crave silence. But happy noise is so much more wonderful. It’s a great reminder to enjoy our time with our kiddos!
Oh, Jean- your story is the perfect frame for gratitude! I had the same kind of experience shortly after one of my dear friends buried a baby. I was walking the hallways in the midnight hour with my own colic-crazed infant when suddenly I began to cry with her.. not because I was exhausted (which I was) but because I suddenly realized the gift in my hands- non-stop wails and all.
What a wonderful story. I love it. so glad you came over to my blog because that led me here to read these words. Wonderful
A few years ago I had a good friend who was dying and another who lost her husband suddenly and young. That night, my husband’s loud snoring woke me up. I listened with a grateful heart to hear him alive and well and enjoying a good nights rest. I haven’t complained about his snoring since that night.
“Out of the mouth of babes!” Your daughter has amazing insight. And thanks so much for sharing it with all of us, because there’s more than one kind of “noise” in our lives. Now I just need to listen for the symphony in my life today! Great post, Alicia!
That is so beautiful. I will listen for our symphony tonight – thank you! It reminds me of a day I blogged about at http://castleforkeeps.com/just-a-day-in-the-life-of-mommy/ amazing how when Mommy has a readjustment of heart the whole home benefits. Thanks for the special blog.
What a delightfully sweet girl you have raised who recognizes the beautiful symphony of your home!
I grew up with 6 siblings, so I can just hear the wild ruckus you describe.
Thanks for the smile today. 🙂