Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Poopy Diapers and Praise
He is our little August Rush. Music is everywhere. The vacuum cleaner. The blender. The dog shaking her fur. The garbage truck outside. He will run from another room or pause whatever his hands are doing. Smile. And dance. Where we hear only noise and clatter, he hears a song, beauty, cause for dancing. We can't help but join in. His delight is contagious. The common is transformed into beauty. Our hearing is transformed, able to now enjoy what was once disguised.
The mundane day-to-day moments have a way of repeating themselves. Dish scrubbing. Clothes washing. Meal preparing. Floor cleaning. Teeth brushing. Poopy diaper changing. Again and again. They begin to take on the far too familiar tone of a song we would really rather forget. They run through our minds, our bodies in an annoying self-run repeat cycle.
We run the risk of getting swept along in the march. Of becoming robotic as we follow the rhythm. Unless. Unless we can feel the beauty of the pattern as a gift, a cause for dancing. For praising. All for the love of God the duty becomes a delight.
...[You] shall rejoice in everything [dishes, a broom, poopy diaper] you put your hand to because the LORD your God has blessed you. ~ Deuteronomy 12:7b