My oldest child is learning to play guitar. In an effort to help today, her younger sister was singing the words to a new song assigned this week; O Come All Ye Faithful. The vocalist carefully, sometimes stiltingly, slowed her words to match the speed of the instrumentalist.
I paused from my busy work, straining to hear better–knowing if they knew I was listening, the song would be over. There were no sweeter sounds to be heard this day. It reminds me of God’s gentle whispers. Come, faithful. He is singing too, but we have to quiet ourselves to hear him. Stop the busy work today, listen for the melody and count your blessings. Whether they are tremendous or so faint you can barely see them, search them out. Once you start adding them up, they seem to build upon each other.
I know many suffering people this year. It puts things in perspective. I write tonight with a grateful heart. Happy Thanksgiving.