My kids love music. It resonates from room to room in our home. Recently J took Gracie and Garrett to a couple of concerts to hear their favorite musicians … Meredith Andrews, Britt Nichole, Mike’s Chair and some others.
They saw the faces of the people that echo through their Ipods on a daily basis. In their world, it’s a big deal.
Voices are powerful. Whether they’re sung, said, whispered or shouted. Whether they come from parents, friendships, strangers or people you’ve just met.
Gracie and Garrett heard Meredith Andrews sing these lyrics:
And this is the new song we sing
To the King of Heaven
This is the new song we bring
After all you’ve given
We stand before you redeemed
As your children,
This is the new song we sing
I hope those words are tattooed on their hearts far longer than an afternoon at a summer concert.
The day was a blur. But what I remember was beautiful.
We drove off in a borrowed red Corvette with nothing but dreams and a few dollars in our pocket. We were heading off into the sunset when I suddenly realized I had left my makeup bag behind at the church. We were too far away to turn around. I silently looked at J wondering if he would recognize me the next day, without mascara and lipstick.
But he loved me anyway. He loved me through three rounds of real estate school, a fledgling home based business, too many trips to the Animal Shelter and my less than desirable cooking skills.
Two apartments and five houses later, we’re still building a dream home in our head. It sits on beachfront property with 6 bedrooms, 3 baths, a wraparound porch, lush flower gardens and a live in maid (and it’s completely doable if we each take on 8 more full time jobs). But our reality is perfectly fine too. A little brick ranch filled to capacity where noise abounds, school takes place and toast is often burnt (sorry J).
We’ve grown up together. We’ve fought, we’ve cried, we’ve prayed and we’ve giggled a lot over the last 14 years. And we’ve welcomed three children into our little world.
Truth is, 14 years ago I didn’t care where that red Corvette was going when we left the wedding, as long as I was beside him. I still feel the same way.
“Who loves you the most?” I ask.
“Who makes your favorite cinnamon toast in the mornings?”
“Da-da!” (Um, no he doesn’t)
“Who puts your toys away 500 times a day?”
“Da-da!” (You’ve got to be kidding me)
“Who gives the best hugs?”
You got me there.