I am not sleeping well these days. These days, I am alone in a house. These days, I don’t have the pillow of assurance that Dad is right there, or that Sam is next to me. These days, it’s up to me to make sure the doors are locked, the lights are off, the house is secure. These days, it’s up to me to turn the daily calendar, to make sure Natia goes outside and gets walked. These days, there’s no smell of coffee unless I make a cup and let it waft on the counter, but what’s the sense in that – I don’t drink coffee.

Dad moved away to his new home, and Sam is back in small town USA, working on our new home and taking care of his business.

I spend my days in the office here in the city and spend my evenings shaking my head at all of the stuff we have accumulated over the few short years we’ve been together.  Dad said last weekend, “Everyone needs to move every couple of years, just to get rid of the stuff they don’t need.” I need more boxes and I certainly need more organization skills – if not for the things we are keeping, at least for the mountain of garage sale items that is growing where a car should be parked.

This morning, after a fitful night of sleep, Natia and I got up to the sound of spring, however.

“Yoo hoo! Yoo hoo!” Right outside the window. I love those birds. In small town USA, it will be the “cooh-cooh” of the mourning doves, but here on 109th, it’s the family of chickadees. And when I left for work, God graced me with Mom’s cardinals, singing “good morning,” so happy to be alive on this 13th day of March.

And then, when I walked into work, a gaggle of geese flew right over me in the parking lot, honking their greeting. I smiled big inside, the sound was so silly. A woodpecker was already at work on a tree – he won the early bird gets the worm contest.

I guess not all noises are scary.

I am grateful for the noise of birds singing.

I am grateful for the noise of Natia’s tail thump against the leather couch when she is happy to see me.

I am grateful for the noise of the dryer and the noise of the washer spin that makes me feel like someone is home and is being productive.

I am grateful for the noise of “The Voice” when Gary Edwards sings and makes me cry.

I am grateful for the noise of sniffles as I go through the 21 years of music teaching, reminiscing over favorite programs and musicals, pictures and notes from students, good times and not-so-good times. It is healing to remember and it is healing to let go…

And I am grateful for the noise that swims in my head of John Wesley’s prayer – I’m working on memorization this week.

I am no longer my own, but yours.
Put me to what you will, place me with whom you will.
Put me to doing, put me to suffering.
Let me be put to work for you or set aside for you,
Praised for you or criticized for you.
Let me be full, let me be empty.
Let me have all things, let me have nothing.
I freely and fully surrender all things to your glory and service.
And now, O wonderful and holy God,
Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer, 
you are mine, and I am yours.
So be it.
And the covenant which I have made on earth,
Let it also be made in heaven.  Amen.