Warm air

It’s not that I’m trying to make him reliant on me to be able to fall asleep, but every now and then there’s just nothing more blissful than to be right there as his eyelids get heavy and his breathing evens…those little puffs warming my face.  This afternoon I allowed myself the luxury to crawl in with Little One for a long afternoon nap (it was an early morning for this organist).  As we pulled the covers over our shoulders, he smiled and told me, “Your air makes me warm.”  It’s the little things such as a moment like this that I so very much treasure.  You can’t buy them.  Just now, I stayed beside him until he was asleep, and I count it a real blessing to see him so at peace.  He came down with a virus (probably just a cold) yesterday and has been a bit fussy, more irritable, and clingy…so it’s just nice to see him calm and recouping.

Then there were the moments today with the “big kids”–my sweet girl with her curly layer hiding beneath that stick-straight top layer…her cheeks sprinkled with those cute freckles trailing across her nose and those gorgeous eyes and [practically toothless] smile, telling me her detailed accounts in her hurried way because she’s come to expect that I’m off to the next “thing” (a statement I don’t say with pride)…and my “big” lanky boy, who recently gave me a package of skittles he won as a prize at school with a note taped on top saying: “To Mom, From Your 6-year-old kid.”  Wow…SIX YEARS…His hair is every bit as soft as it ever was and I get lost in those bright blue eyes.  I can’t help but tease him now and then because it’s a precious gift to truly get his attention and see him engaged with me…

I’m thankful for having had the opportunity to help out this morning up on the organ bench.  In most respects everything went fine, and my big postlude sure was fun to play.  Then there were a couple moments after breakfast had worn off and my body (and mind) was feeling the need for fuel that things fell apart for a beat or two, but by God’s grace I’m past all that and the message was heard despite me.

Yesterday, though, when I realized that Little One wasn’t feeling well (he cried before his nap about an ouchy ear, so I prepped an “ear treatment” which did the trick, but then he tossed and turned in his nap, woke up early and cried of a sore throat), I panicked a bit and threw an inward tantrum over the loss of “my plans”.  Now he couldn’t go to the YMCA for Parents’ Night Out.  Now would Kevin and I get to go to the choir party?  Did I even care about getting back to church to finish practicing?  No…I just wanted to be Mommy and soothe him.

It was apparently time for a mini pity party.  “So often someone gets sick on an ‘organ weekend’.  Is God trying to tell me that I shouldn’t play organ?”  Stamping my foot in my mind’s eye, I indignantly rationalize how that just couldn’t be.  SOMEone has to play, and they’re always asking me.  He just must be reminding me that in this sinful world, serving isn’t always easy–just as many good things aren’t.  For me, it’s a matter of keeping it all in perspective.  I AM a mom, and my heart tells me that this comes first.  Leading the congregation in worship (through song) is an important responsibility, but I’m not willing at this point in life to make certain sacrifices on account of it.  I think it’s better to be realistic about how much time I can use to practice, how difficult the music can be, therefore, and, mostly–trust.

I find that I’m self-conscious this past year about how much I did practice, forever trying to gauge if it was “enough”…but with my two big kids gone at school so much of the time, I begrudge taking time outside of the school day to go practice.  I want to be with them.  In past years when they were little and primarily home with me, I didn’t mind going over to church for a few hours while they had daddy-time.  It’s just not that way anymore.  If I must go, I’d rather they come with me…but that’s typically not highly productive.

I always pray for forgiveness that I did not use my time as well as I should have.  I thank God for the time He did grant me.  I thank Him for the abilities He’s given me, and I ask that He bless our time in worship by allowing me to play in such a way that I don’t disrupt or detract from the people hearing the message and praising Him.  Time and time again, He grants that.  I’m grateful.

Mostly, though, I’m thankful for the three little people who have been entrusted to Kevin and me.  They challenge us, humor us immensely, bring us joy…and the list goes on.  I’m off to catch one more puff of warm air from my sleeping Little One, and then my head’s going down on my own pillow.  Sweet dreams, all.

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2 Responses to Warm air

  1. Shannon says:

    I love your blog! Your spiritual outlook is inspiring!

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