Tune My Heart to Sing Thy Grace

Come, thou Fount of every blessing,
tune my heart to sing thy grace;

streams of mercy, never ceasing,
call for songs of loudest praise.

Teach me some melodious sonnet,
sung by flaming tongues above.

Praise the mount! I’m fixed upon it,
mount of thy redeeming love.

O to grace how great a debtor

daily I’m constrained to be!

Let thy goodness, like a fetter,
bind my wandering heart to thee.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
prone to leave the God I love;

here’s my heart, O take and seal it,
seal it for thy courts above.

The wind rustles golden grain, swaying so it sounds like tinkling bells.  Tiny cymbals.  I roll down the window as I drive up the lane just to stop for a spell and listen in on nature’s symphony. The air laden with the smell of dust and a dry grassy scent. The clouds are piled high and fluffy.  Beauty surrounds every angle from which I gaze.

My heart is part wonder, part sorrow.  There is always beauty in sorrow.  And it takes every effort to tune into the grace we have been afforded when our minds so easily slip,  so quickly bend toward the stress.  Our hearts must be trained to see more than meets the eye.  We must look with discernment for what lies beyond.  What we see is not all there truly is.

There is so very much more.

I walk into the barn and take in the musty smell of manure and hay and dust and years worth of sweat and hard labour.  I follow him as he paces the length of the barn and back again.  We lean into one another.  I wrap my arms around his chest and feel his beating heart.  What is our life work worth at the end of the day?  What legacy do we leave to those following in our footsteps?

How will we be remembered?

I step back, standing just upon the threshold of this doorway leading to another life and take in one last view before I turn away toward the sunlight and warmth of the day.

How is it that we are able to tune our hearts to sing grace even when the cords of those same hearts wring with pain?  Daily, we must train our minds to think on these eternal graces: love, joy peace.

Grace sustains in the midst of trouble.  Holding us, enabling us, propelling us forward.

There are streams of mercy, never ceasing at every vantage point. Our lives a song- only we can decide how that tune will be sung.

May our songs of praise be ever heard, our lives a melodious hymn of gratitude. For our blessings outnumber even our wildest dreams, our greatest aspirations.

Advertisements

Embracing Random…

There is a pink Littlest Pet Shop kitten cuddled up in the Virgin Mary’s lap. It is sharing a spot with baby Jesus, vying for the most coveted spot in the nativity scene. And I found presumptuous Her when I was picking up the umpteenth dozen leftover toy there in the fireplace room tonight, toys which I fondly refer to as The Remains of the Day.
There were also lumps of potato under a chair in the kitchen, but who’s really taking notes?

You see. I have come to realize that my life is just not as picture perfect as I thought it was. As I’d like it to be. That is, there are details in my life that are a bit off kilter. I’d like to think that everything is compartmentalized JUST SO- with everything and everyone in my circle of being falling into place. But of course, this just isn’t the case. And I know that life isn’t perfect. I know that. That we all can’t have our own way most of the time- that life is messy and chaotic. And pretty is as pretty does.

But, I am talking here about just keeping up to the status quo. To Pinterest and facebook statuses, to be precise. (That was partially a joke.) Sometimes I feel like my life is that Littlest Pet Shop- trying to fit in and look normal when really it just doesn’t belong there.

Today, I thought I would seize the day- seize the moment, that is. We were home because of a very poor Board decision to send children to school for an hour and a half and then send them home again (‘nuff said). Which is to say that today was a storm day of sorts. So, in the late afternoon- after I had done my inside baking and meal prep, I decided to go out and take pictures of my children frolicking in the freshly fallen snow. Think primitive Pinterest decorating ideas meet hardcore Mill River winter.

I grabbed the camera and made a run for it. Seize the day. Seize the moment. So I got the kiddos to pose against our blue barn with the wreath in the background. I snapped. I thought I was brilliant for thinking of such an idyllic location. That is, until I realized that all the pictures have a strand of stray lights trailing down the barn walls beside my daughters. Cute. If you like random.

Kind of like the time I left the staffroom bathroom with toilet paper trailing behind my outfit.

I would love to think that I can be that picture perfect idea I have in my head but the truth is: I am not that pulled together. I am too impulsive, too slap-dash, too eclectic. And it is my own fault- I am a Jackie of too many trades. I don’t take time to master many of them.

So today, I baked with each of my four children in a spurt of motherhood greatness (because something I read the other night on Facebook caused me to feel very guilty for being so uptight in the kitchen, so to prove to myself that I can let loose and let my kids make a mess- I let all FOUR make their very own Christmas treat.) ‪#‎whatwasithinking‬

When the two batches of cookies lay waiting on the counter-top waiting to be glazed and my Son remarked, “Wow, those actually don’t look too bad, Mom.” (As in: “Every other batch of cookies you have EVER made, and I do mean EVER- has utterly and completely flopped, Mother Dearest”). I just knew then and there that it was time to embrace my inner Random.  The inner Crazy inside me. That girl who really is my true self. The One who ruins most of her baking. Who has a hard time seeing her kids through the lens of a camera (#nearsighted), let alone focus it. The girl who is late for pretty much everything in her life and who also happens to have pink Littlest Pet Shop kittens as part of her traditional manger scene.

That girl.

She’s me.  She’s random. She’s definitely a little loopy.  But I kinda like her anyway.