The Sounds of Silence

With two kiddos, two kittens, and a vital ministry within a thriving city, I don't have a lot of quiet in my daily life. I was pleasantly surprised to realize that I just spent the last ten minutes in a very happy state of silence. Wearing comfy sweats, I am slowly rocking in my glider chair with a cup of hot Earl Grey in my hand. I put my head back, closed my eyes and listened to the sounds around me. I get lost in the crackling of the warm fire in the fireplace to my side. I hear Connor breathing and the light chuthunk-chuthunk of his wire and bead toy across the room. Without being able to understand the words they are saying, I can hear Allan and Trinity talking in the basement, occasionally laughing together at something one of them has said. From the sounds of their jingling collars, it sounds like the kittens are playing around Allan's and Trinity's feet.

The silence was short lived. By the time I finished the first paragraph of this post, chaos has resumed. I hear my own occasional yelps as the kittens take turns trying to claw their way up my leg in order to help me type on my laptop. Connor is swinging a long loaf of French bread around by the end of the package, yelling, "I want some bread! I want something to drink! Daddy! Daddy! I want something to drink! Apple juice! Mommy bought me apple juice!" Trinity is singing a operetta, very loudly, to her baby doll. Allan is making a valiant effort to get the bedtime routine under way.

I have come to appreciate both extremes - the times of loud laughter and play, yelling and wrestling, as well as the quiet moments when I can actually hear myself think.