My wife and I have just returned from a recent trip to Arkansas, my adopted 2nd home state.
Not sure if Arkansas will ever adopt me, but I have adopted it!
My wife and I spent a few days in our beloved Eureka Springs area, and then I attended a meeting at the Mount Sequoyah Conference and Retreat Center in Fayetteville, where I serve as a member of the Board of Trustees.
Whenever I travel anywhere with anybody, they soon realize that I love to quietly hum. It has been pointed out to me that I hum out loud far more than I am aware of.
My Mom hums as well. She is coming in for a visit in a few days. I bet we could hum together if giving the chance. Humming in harmony! It can be done!
Why is it, for some of us, that we make music whenever and wherever we can? Humming, singing, whistling . . . I am one who could easily believe that life, in and of itself, is a song! In my Christian tradition, life is supposed to be lived and experienced as an actual act of worship. Worship for me would always include singing and music. In fact, I don't mind attending a worship service were there is no sermon (except when I am preaching!!!!!!!!)
But the thought is intriquing . . . my life as a symphony. It would a diverse piece of music. The music would have to portray elements of joy and happiness, as well as sadness and sorrow. The music would have to share the emotions of hope and defeat. Some aspect about the music would have to communicate a spirit of overcoming, and the ability to always, given time, trying to get back up when knocked down.
Lastly, the music would have to generate an understanding of life lived as a journey . . . with different stopping and starting points along the way, as well as course changes and corrections. And finally, the music would have to clearly communicate the long held value of family and friendship, and of having goals and dreams, which become more clear because of maturity and lessons learned.
What kind of music would communicate about your life? What would your song sound like?
God's grace still amazes me . . . ><>