Making time for important sounds in life
The dishwasher quiets after its cycle. An airplane hums overhead.
I hear snoring, a tree branch blowing across the house, the keys of the computer click and the buzzing of a computer.
It’s not too much noise for 1 a.m., but just enough. It’s comforting.
I’m not at home in silence. I never have been. Though I love our trips to the Midwest to visit family, it’s always eerily quiet in the dead of night.
One word from this city girl: Freaky.
Generally, my life is anything but quiet. One day into spring break and the two older children are already arguing. The 2-year-old has mastered the defiant “no” heard around our house beginning about 7 a.m.
For some reason my 8-year-old daughter sounds like a thumping elephant any time she moves across the upstairs floors.
And don’t get me started with the always-on-in-the-evening television. Yes, I like a busy, noisy house. But sometimes, even the TV gets too loud.
But the truth is, I should probably spend more time in silence: more time reading, more time writing, more time praying.
When it’s busy and noisy and our calendar is full and I’m running at full speed from one part of town to another, moments pass me by.
I can’t count the number of times a week my toddler asks, “Can we go to the park?” as we drive past one that looks inviting.
“Not now, we need to get to karate.”
“Not now, it’s time for dinner.”
It breaks my heart.
She really let me have it today after I drove by a park near her grandparents.
“Go back! Turn around!”
The persuading went on for 15 minutes as I continued on our very slow path down the freeway.
I think before I sit down to the computer again in the morning, before I take her to preschool, before we get too much into our day, I’ll load the kids up and take them to a park.
It won’t be that one, but maybe this time, I can say, “yes.”
And there, I’ll sit on the grass, listening to nothing, but the joys and giggles of playtime.