Sunday, December 28, 2008

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

A More Beautiful Noise

A post from Mars Hill Advent celebration:

A man was heading home with his toddler child. They were returning from a long day of activity and busyness. Many things were weighing on the father’s mind. The vehicle was quiet, but the man’s mind was noisy with thought.
After some time, the child broke the heavy silence with a simple song.
Immediately upon recognizing what the child was singing, the man’s mind became clear and present. He at once realized that he was responsible for making this singing child. He’d created a creator and the sound of the child’s voice connected the man to the source of an immeasurable joy that could not be explained.
It occurred to the father–had he heard a master vocalist perform the same piece of music, flawlessly and with all the skill, tone, and dynamics of a Pavarotti, he would’ve been unmoved. A singer with an accurate execution, expertise, and emotional delivery could never have pleased him nearly as much as the soft, undeveloped voice of this youngster. The song sang “perfectly” would have lacked all its meaning.
This was because the tender little creature sang without pride or self-consciousness, thoughtfully and happily with focus and purity. It was not a performance, not intended for an audience. This child, whom the father loved, sang without being asked, without fear of judgment and with no concept or expectation of recognition or reward. Merely expressing a heart-filled wonder, the child sang for no reason other than it was what the child was
m o v e d
to do at that moment. For this reason, it was a resounding and powerful voice that resonated as flawless with the father.
Flawless. Even though the child had a weak vocabulary–many of the words were barely discernable–and conjoined with a tune, the child’s enunciation quickly worsened. From a technical standpoint the child got it all wrong: omitting words and singing others in the wrong order. The pitch was imprecise. The melody was broken. The tempo was unsteady. And it was the loveliest sound that had ever graced the father’s ears.
Any serious critic would’ve considered the song nothing but a noise fallen short of the mark, a cacophony of significant errors and artistic offenses, but it was genuine and true. And the father could not have imagined a more beautiful noise. The child sang with joy and the child’s joy was the father’s joy.
Week 3 posts
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(contributed by Adam Kenyon)

Hope it makes you enjoy your family and the small momnets like it did me!

Thursday, December 4, 2008

craftsman

What a week!!!! I actually built a book case. This is only impressive if you know me and home projects. I am not exactly handy, but have learned to handle some house hold fix-it projects since owning our own home for a few years. Rachel painted it and we now have extra storage in our room. It isn't exactly a masterpiece or anything but I have to say I am proud of us for just tackling the whole thing! Then yesterday we went to Opryland for pics, even got the Bug w/ Santa(the surprised look not the all out crying one). We went to TGIFriday's for an amazing supper. Lily really like their cheesy mashed potatoes. She had them alllll over her!!! I picked her up to clen off the mashed taters only to find there was a whole nother mess in the back and now on my shirt!! Surprise! Rachel once said, when Lily had just arrived, you know we are paretns b/c we can't go anywhere w/o spit-up, milk or something all over us! Now add poop! In typical dad fashion I just wiped it all off and went on w/ the night! Craftsman and dad those are new titles I'll have to get used to.